


WereFlandus

by tender_is_the_ghost



Category: Flandus - Fandom, Norman Reedus - Fandom, Sean Patrick Flanery - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-10-09
Packaged: 2018-01-15 10:38:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 131,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1301854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tender_is_the_ghost/pseuds/tender_is_the_ghost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I feel like I should preface this with some cheesy opener like, "Hi, I'm tender_is_the_ghost, I like Norman Reedus and werewolves." </p><p>I think you get where this story is going.</p><p>Oh... and I should also add that I hate AU stories, like really, really hate them so, umm, yeah... don't know what happened here. </p><p>This work is currently still in progress as I find the time and inspiration and is, as of yet, untitled hence the lazy name it has right now. </p><p>I thank you for your patience. :)</p><p>                                                      ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p>
    </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I should preface this with some cheesy opener like, "Hi, I'm tender_is_the_ghost, I like Norman Reedus and werewolves." 
> 
> I think you get where this story is going.
> 
> Oh... and I should also add that I hate AU stories, like really, really hate them so, umm, yeah... don't know what happened here. 
> 
> This work is currently still in progress as I find the time and inspiration and is, as of yet, untitled hence the lazy name it has right now. 
> 
> I thank you for your patience. :)
> 
> ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The car speeds along the darkened road surface, taking curves a little too fast and causing the nighttime critters to scurry out of its oncoming path. The front windows are cracked about an inch both sides and the distinctive sound of Hendrix echoes on the night air. The half-moon hangs low in the sky, bathing everything in a milky light as the open patch of road suddenly delves into the forest, trees crowding up to the asphalt and the car slows its breakneck pace just a fraction, high beams flashing into existence.

Inside the car, Lucia grips the wheel with a light touch, fingers drumming out the beat along with the music, cigarette clutched between her knuckles. The cool night wind streams in the open widow, ruffling her short hair and tickling at her skin. Fall is coming, she thinks, as she steers the car around another bend and guns the engine as the road straightens out ahead of her for miles.

She smiles to herself as the car roars along, violating numerous speed laws she’s sure. But she just doesn’t care. This is her release, her way of blowing off steam after days cooped up in the cabin, working on her art. She gets so obsessed, lost in her work, that before she knows it, a week can have passed  without her ever leaving the confines of her own four walls.

So, sometimes, she just feels the need to get in the car in the early hours of the morning, crank up her music and drive as far and as fast as she can. The speed soothes her and, if the local cops should happen to come across her, they know by now just to let her do her own thing, turning a blind eye and just waving her on. After the tenth speeding ticket, paid on time with an enormous smile and a box of warm donuts, they came to the realization that she was never going to slow down and constantly penalizing one of their local ‘celebrities’ probably wasn’t a good move for the town.

Not that Lucia thinks of herself as a celebrity, far from it, and the very thought of it makes her toes curl in embarrassment. But that’s how you get treated in these small towns where everybody knows your business. Her family has owned the cabin by the lake almost all her life and she’s spent every summer of her youth here and now it belongs to her. The only daughter of an Old Italian family, her parents moved to the states when she was in her early teens, wanting to give their children the chance to live a different life. Her brother returned to their homeland as soon as he was done with college but Lucia fell in love with the brash country she grew up in and made it her home.

A successful artist in her own right, she also designs and illustrates book jackets for a well-known author, someone she’s been friends with since their days at college together. Her imagery is almost as famous as the books themselves, transferred to movie posters for the first big screen adaptations of her friend’s work. The exposure brought an abundance of work to her doorstep, allowing her to pick and choose her commissions in a way she’d never been able to before.

That, plus the income from her own successful art shows in the city, have left her living more than comfortably for the past few years. She owns a small apartment in New York and the cabin here in Vermont. She likes the juxtaposition of the city and the woods, spending her winters in New York, enjoying the bustle of the crowds, and her summers out here, living life at half the pace.

She sighs, finishing her cigarette and stubbing out the butt in the overflowing ashtray, once again vowing that was her last one. The car’s slipstream sucks the smoke out through the window and into the night as she exhales slowly. She knows the time will soon be coming to pack up her belongings and move herself and her dog, Beegle, back to the city. It’s been an amazing summer, her work has flowed from her and she has enough finished pieces to stage one maybe two shows over the winter.

Lost in thoughts of packing up and the logistics of getting her canvasses shipped back to the city, it takes a second before she realizes she can see the twin pinpricks of light signaling another vehicle coming towards her on the narrow country road. She flicks her high beams down to low, blinking in the rapidly approaching glare as they don’t do the same. A small lick of fear tickles at the base of her spine. It’s rare that she sees other traffic on her nighttime excursions, one of the main reasons she chooses to drive at three in the morning but it’s not unheard of.

She lowers her speed a little, just in case something is amiss and as the other vehicle gets closer, she reaches a hand down, fumbling for her cell phone on the seat next to her, wanting it in reach but not taking her eyes off the road. The dazzling light is getting unbearable now and Lucia squints against it, thinking the other vehicle must be some kind of van or truck judging by the height of its headlights.

What happens next, seems to her, to take place simultaneously in slow motion and fast forward. As she draws alongside the other vehicle, her brain just has time to register that it’s a pickup truck, her eyes sliding over the driver’s shadowy form in the cab, before something large and dark is flying at her windshield, thrown from the flatbed of the truck as it passes.

She screams, foot slamming onto the brake as the object smashes into the glass with a sickening thud, sending a spider-web of cracks out from its impact point. For a split second she thinks she sees a pair of eyes, wild with pain, staring at her from the darkness and her brain is screaming at her that this is a man, as the car’s forward velocity whips him up and over the roof to land on the road behind her.

Her car screeches to a halt further along, in a blaze of burning rubber, pulling off onto the shoulder and for once Lucia’s glad her car is too old to have airbags. Hands gripping the wheel with white knuckles, heart trip-hammering in her chest, her eyes fly to the rearview mirror. The truck’s taillights are fading into the distance with no sign of stopping and her eyes flick to the shadowy mound lying motionless on the darkened road surface.

Killing the engine and yanking off her seatbelt, she trips over her own feet in her urgency to get out of the car, cursing loudly as she untangles herself and races toward the body on the ground. She slows as she approaches, suddenly scared of what she might find, wishing she had grabbed her cellphone in her mad dash from the car. She comes around the front of the body, eyes taking in the dark shirt and light jeans liberally splashed with what she can only assume is his own blood, her gorge rising slightly as the coppery smell reaches her nostrils.

She hesitates in front of him, his arm is thrown up over his face and she can’t even tell if he’s still breathing, wondering if she should run back for her phone or try to assess his condition first. A gurgled moan from under his arm startles her and she drops to her knees beside his head.

_“Oh my God, can you hear me? I’m going to get help okay? I have a phone in my car, I’ll go call the cops.”_

She reaches out to draw his arm away from his face but, with an inhuman speed, his hand whips out, grabbing her wrist in a vicelike grip, grinding the bones under her skin. She yelps, trying to twist her forearm out of his hand but he’s too strong, pulling her closer to him.

_”No… cops…”_

He struggles to get the words out and Lucia fears that he may have punctured a lung with the way his breath wheezes as he speaks.

_“But I have to… you need medical attention, you’re seriously hurt and someone needs to report whoever was in that truck.”_

Her eyes flick to the deserted highway, suddenly registering how quiet the woods have become around them as if the night is holding its breath. The man tugs on her wrist again and her head whips round to find he’s pushed himself up on one elbow and his face is now inches from hers.

_“Help me,”_ he pleads, staring intently into her face. She doesn’t break his gaze, her mind racing, thinking she should just agree with him, get him to the car and then drive him to the nearest hospital. She nods quickly and for a moment she swears she sees his eyes flash from light grey to a radiant yellow but when she blinks, they’re normal again and he’s loosening his grip on her wrist.

Lucia stands up, helping the man to his feet, wondering how in the hell he can even be standing after such a vicious accident. Accident, ha! That’s a joke, she thinks as she staggers to the car, supporting most of his body weight on her shoulders. What happened to him was no accident, that’s for sure and she vows to call the police as soon as she can. She lowers him into the front passenger seat, leaning in to buckle his seat belt across him and she thinks she hears him chuckle as it clicks into place. She closes the door and comes around the car to get behind the wheel. Looking across at him, he appears to have passed out, body slumped against the window.

Carefully, she starts the engine, flicking the stereo to off before it screeches to life, and reverses off the shoulder, making a turn to head back the way she’d come, keeping her speed to a more normal level. As she drives, she chews her thumbnail between her teeth, part of her worrying that they might catch up to the people that dumped him on her car, the rest of her worrying about where she’s going to take him. As she nears the turn off for the main highway that would take her in the right direction for the nearest hospital, her body it seems makes the decision for her, hands gripping the wheel a little tighter, as she passes the turn and keeps heading towards home instead. In the passenger seat the mystery man stirs, breathing out two words, before slipping into unconsciousness again.

_“Thank you.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 

Twenty minutes later, she pulls into her driveway, kills the lights and hurries to unlock the door, shooing an inquisitive Beegle into the kitchen and closing the door, before racing back outside to pull open the passenger door and help the man out. The night air seems to revive him momentarily and she half walks, half drags him into the house, kicking the door closed behind her and steering him into one of the two guest rooms on the lower level of the cabin.

She aims him towards the bed and dumps him on it, wincing when a small squeal of pain emanates from his lips and his body goes limp. She lifts his legs up onto the bed, struggling with his weight, then stands back to stare down at him, wondering what the hell she should do next. She flicks on the small lamp by the bed, bathing him in a warm yellow glow and finally gets a good look at him.

Her artist’s eye skims his features, the strong forehead, high perfect cheekbones, a square jaw covered with a dark goatee streaked with silver. Long dark lashes rest against his cheeks and she notices with a passing curiosity that the skin under one eye is baby smooth where the other looks normal. A small dark mole rests on his upper lip, nestled among the hair there and for some reason this makes her smile.

The smile soon fades as her eyes track up and she realizes his hair isn’t just dark, it’s plastered to his head with matted blood. Her stomach lurches again as she wonders what other injuries are hiding beneath his clothes. Chiding herself for being such a wimp, she starts by unlacing his boots and setting them on the floor, then unbuckles his bloodied jeans, breathing a small sigh of relief when she sees that he’s wearing underwear. She pulls them off, trying to be gentle but struggling with the heavy, sticky material. She dumps them on the wood floor by his boots and turns her attention to his shirt, quickly undoing the buttons and bending his arms to pull them out of the sleeves, before tugging it out from under his body and adding it to the pile on the floor.

During all of this he doesn’t stir, a rag doll in her hands, but she notes the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest and is content that he appears to be breathing normally. Maybe he didn’t pierce a lung after all, she thinks gratefully. With him semi-naked before her, her eyes assess his body, looking first and foremost for any obvious wounds. His legs and thighs are marked by several small lacerations crusted with blood but nothing serious. Her brain notices and files away the small coiled snake tattooed on his left thigh. Eyes skipping over his mid-section, she tries not to focus on the dark trail of hair leading from his navel down into the waistband of his underwear.

She looks instead to his ribs, running her hands lightly over them, not really sure what she’s looking for but pretty sure she’ll feel if anything is broken under the skin. She reaches around underneath him as far as she can but nothing feels broken. She frowns a little as she takes note of how hot his skin feels under her touch, worried that he might have an infection setting in from something she’s yet to find. There seems to have been an awful lot of blood for the almost superficial wounds that she’s finding.

On his chest, above his nipple, she finds another tattoo, partially hidden under a streak of dried blood, the ink bleeding a little at the edges, betraying its age. It’s a name and it takes a second for her to make it out, eyes deciphering the flowing script to reveal it as ‘Norman’. She files this away with all the other questions she’s gathering and checks his neck either side, still finding nothing more than small lacerations.

Sighing, she heads into the bathroom, pulling out the small medical kit she keeps stocked in there and grabs a clean washcloth and towel from the rack by the bath. She soaks the washcloth with warm water and takes it back into the bedroom, where she starts systematically cleaning the dried blood from his skin. It takes a couple of trips back and forth to rinse it out but she’s finally satisfied with her work. Clear of blood, she can see the ugly bruises starting to ripen under his skin from the impact with the car and she hates to think how much his body is going to hurt in the morning. She finds a bunch more tattoos during her clean up – a small winged demon on the inner side of his upper arm; what she assumes is a name, ‘Mingus’, in red ink on the inside of his forearm; a small black heart and a star on his right wrist and hand and a cross on his clavicle, so tiny that she took it for a birthmark at first in the low light.

She dresses his cuts with an iodine spray and Band-Aids where needed, leaving the one on his head until she’s satisfied his body is taken care of. With a grunt of effort, she manages to roll him over onto his side and it’s there that she finds it, the source of all the blood. A wicked looking gash runs from halfway across the ribs on his left, down across his lower back, ending just above the waist of his underwear.

It’s still oozing blood and it’s soaked into the comforter he’s lying on top of. The coppery smell tickles Lucia’s nostrils again and she fights back a wave of nausea, swallowing hard. Carefully she rolls his body further until he’s lying on his front, knee pulled up in the recovery position, so she can easier work on his back. She fetches a fresh, wet washcloth from the bathroom and cleans away as much of the trickling blood as she can, before applying pressure to the wound with gauze from the medical kit.

When she’s satisfied the bleeding has stopped, she lifts the gauze away and takes a bottle of sterile water from the kit, using it to flush the wound before she applies an antibiotic ointment. As she works, a small crease appears between her eyes. With the wound mostly clear of blood, she gets a proper look at it and wonders if it was even caused by the accident at all. She’s lived in the woods on and off for enough years to have dealt with all sorts of mishaps and what this looks like to her, most of all, is an animal bite. The edges are jagged, consistent with a fang tearing through the flesh, but she wonders what kind of animal this guy could have tangled with, big enough to leave a mark like that but for it to be the _only_ mark on him.

She quickly dresses the wound, pushing away the questions she’s not going to have any answers to until he wakes up at least. Her eyes travel to his shoulder when she’s done, to examine the tattoo there she noticed briefly as she turned him over. Two large winged demons cling to his skin, the black ink striking in its harshness and she has a feeling there’s a story behind them.

With a little creative maneuvering, she manages to get the bloody comforter out from underneath him, also dumping that on the floor with a sigh. Tentatively, she reaches for his head, her fingers parting his soft, thick hair to find the source of his bleeding, another gash and an egg sized bump, most likely from where he struck the windshield. There’s not a lot she can do to wash his hair but she uses the damp washcloth to wipe away what blood she can and then applies ointment to the area.

Ministrations finished, Lucia steps back to survey the mess in the room. She quickly re-packs the medical kit, leaving it on the bedside table and disposing of the bloodied gauzes in the trash, tying the top of the plastic bag, just in case Beegle should find his way in there. Scooping up the blood soaked comforter and clothing, she carries them through the house to the small utility room in back, stuffing everything in the washer together, pretty sure that his clothes are beyond saving. She checks his pockets before adding his jeans to the machine but, apart from a few loose coins and a guitar pick in his front pocket, she doesn’t find anything else. No wallet, no real cash, no I.D., not even a cell phone. Dumping extra detergent into the machine, she turns the dial and the washer hums quietly to life.

Shoulders slumping as the events of the night catch up with her, she stifles a yawn as she shuffles to the kitchen, patting a bouncing Beegle on the head and opening the back door for him to go do his business so he won’t bother any more until she wakes up again. He races eagerly around the yard, sniffing at the dew damp grass in the pre-dawn light but he comes bounding back when Lucia softly calls his name. She fills his food bowl and closes the kitchen door behind her as she crosses quietly to the stairs leading up to her loft bedroom.

Yawning wider this time, she slips out of her own clothes, nose wrinkling as she realizes they’re a little bloody too and drops them in her hamper. Pulling on an old t-shirt and a comfy pair of pajama pants, she pulls a clean comforter from the chest at the end of her bed and carries it back down the stairs to the guest room. The man has rolled over onto his back again while she’s been gone, although he doesn’t show any sign of having woken up. She pulls the comforter up over him, even though she doesn’t think he needs it, as hot as his body feels right now. Happy that, for now at least, she’s done all she can for him, Lucia sinks into the armchair at the side of the bed, tucking her legs up under her and pulling the blanket draped over the back of the chair around her, wishing she hadn’t smoked her last ciggie in the car earlier. The last thing she remembers before sleep claims her is watching the steady rise and fall of his chest under the comforter and wondering what the fuck she’s going to do with him when he wakes up.

 


	2. Chapter 2

The sounds of day penetrate Lucia’s sleep-fogged brain but she refuses to open her eyes, trying desperately to sink back into oblivion. She shifts position and a white-hot pain lances through her neck and shoulders and she wonders why she’s sleeping in a chair instead of her amazingly comfortable bed. She rolls her neck, working out the knot and pulls the blanket tighter around her, thinking she’ll worry about it later. Right now she just wants to be asleep again.

A deep masculine snore reverberates around the room and her eyes fly open, vision blurry as she tries to focus on her surroundings, gaze coming to rest on the shape on the bed in front of her. She blinks stupidly a few times, then sits upright with a start as the switch flips in her brain and she remembers why there’s a strange man in her bed. Running her fingers through her hair, she chews on her bottom lip, pushing the blanket aside and standing to take a proper look at her guest.

During the night he’s pushed the comforter off him and Lucia recalls how hot his skin felt the night before. His body is a beautiful mess, deep bruises etching his skin in a palette of blacks, purples and blues. Lucia’s eyes roam his body, looking unashamedly at him now as a man, not just a broken body to be fixed. His physique is pretty close to perfect by her standards – finely muscled arms, veins ridging his skin, leading to amazingly strong broad shoulders and a wide chest, a sparse scattering of hair between his nipples, narrowing down to a slim waist, his hipbones peeking above the edge of his underwear.

His face is relaxed in sleep, shaggy dark hair falling across his forehead and, although he’s not the conventional definition of handsome, there is something striking about his features that stirs something inside her. Her fingers itch to touch his face, trace those cheekbones with her thumbs and feel his lips under her skin and she’s just reaching out to him when reality slaps her in the face and she jerks her hand back like she’s been burned. Face flushing, she turns and leaves the room, heading for the kitchen.

It’s not that she’s a wallflower by any means, she has men friends whom she sees on occasion, when the urge takes her, but there’s no regular guy in her life and definitely nobody to take care of her needs out here in the middle of nowhere. Damn, she curses at herself, just because a hot guy literally drops in your lap does not mean you have to start acting like some kind of sex starved hussy.

 _“Get a grip, Lucia!”_ she mumbles under her breath as she busies herself making coffee.

A sudden, strident barking from Beegle makes her turn and she groans as she realizes she left the door open. She races from the kitchen, dodging around furniture in the living room and skidding to a halt in the guest room, only to find her ‘supposed’ guard dog flat on his back on the bed, whimpering in pleasure as her guest rubs roughly at his belly with one hand. The man looks up at her, smiling, as he tickles Beegle who now has his eyes closed and his tongue lolling out of his upside-down mouth.

 _“Wow, he’s never usually this friendly with strangers, especially men,”_ says Lucia, leaning against the door frame.

 _“Dogs like me,”_ replies the man, never taking his eyes off her. His voice sounds stronger than the night before, his tone deep and rich.

He reaches forward to stroke Beegle’s ears but stops suddenly, pain etched across his face. He lowers himself back against the pillows as Lucia approaches the bed.

_“Beegle. Down. Go to the kitchen.”_

He rolls over, looking from his mistress to the man in the bed, who nods almost imperceptibly and Beegle jumps down, pausing to sniff at Lucia’s hand as he passes.

 _“Traitor,”_ she mutters as she strokes his ears before pushing him in the direction of the kitchen. She turns her attention back to the man in the bed who is panting slightly and has a light sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

 _“How are you feeling?”_ she asks.

 _“Like I got hit with a car!”_ he replies, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Lucia rolls her eyes and starts examining some of the larger wounds on his torso. To her surprise, a lot of them seem to be mostly closed and scabbing over already. She presses around the edges of one, checking for infection and finds that his skin still feels hot to her touch.

_“You’re burning up… I think you have an infection.”_

She reaches up to lay the back of her hand against his forehead but he stops her halfway, taking her hand in his.

_“It’s fine. I have a really high metabolism, it keeps my temperature up a few degrees above normal all the time. It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.”_

Lucia looks at him long and hard, wondering if she can trust his word on this, or if he’s just trying to cover up how he really feels.

_“Okay, but I should still check the wound on your back – it was pretty nasty.”_

He’s still holding her hand and, when he doesn’t move to let go, she pulls it gently from his grasp, noticing the spark of amusement in his blue eyes as she flushes at his touch. She does an about face and disappears into the bathroom to retrieve the medical kit, leaning on the sink for a moment to gather her wits. When she comes back, he’s pushed himself up into a sitting position but she can tell by the tense lines in his arms that the effort has cost him.

Quickly she opens the kit, then removes the dressing from the night before to take a look at the wound that so resembled a bite the last time she saw it. Her eyes widen slightly as she examines the puckered skin and she wonders if her freaked-out mind was exaggerating the severity of the wound when she first saw it. Although it’s still raw and pink, it seems somehow smaller than before, not quite so deep or jagged looking. She applies more ointment and covers it with a new dressing, smoothing the edges down with her fingertips.

 _“I guess you heal really fast too, huh?”_ she asks as she re-packs the medical supplies.

 _“Actually, yes, I do,”_ he replies, easing himself back down on the bed, _“but it still hurts like a bitch.”_

Lucia returns the medical kit back to the bathroom, washes her hands, then returns to stand at the end of the bed, arms folded across her chest as she contemplates the man before her.

 _“I’m sure you have a hundred questions,”_ he says with a small smile.

_“More like a thousand. Let’s start with an easy one. What’s your name?”_

He stares at her, eyes scanning her face, looking for something she’s unsure of.

 _“You don’t know who I am?”_ he asks, raising an eyebrow.

_“No. I checked your pockets last night but your wallet was gone so I figured whoever used you as a missile on my car took it before they tossed you over the side.”_

He’s still staring at her intently and she shifts uncomfortably under his scrutiny.

_“And you don’t recognize me at all?”_

Lucia shakes her head.

_“Should I? I think I’d remember if we’d met before.”_

He looks at her for a moment more and then smiles.

_“No, you’re right, we’ve never met. I’m Norman.”_

_“Lucia.”_

At that moment a deep grumble issues forth from the vicinity of his mid-section and Lucia raises her hand to her mouth to stifle a giggle.

 _“Hungry?”_ she asks, with a smile.

He looks sheepishly up at her.

_“Starving actually but I don’t want you to go to any more trouble. You’ve already been so amazing and I owe you an explanation.”_

_“Well I can’t let you starve now, can I? Let me go make us something to eat and then you can explain exactly how it was you ended up as my hood ornament last night.”_

She turns to leave the room.

 _“Lucia?”_ he says and she turns back to him.

_“I know I have no right to ask for any more from you but do you have a phone I can use? There’s someone I need to check in with.”_

She reaches into the pocket of her sweats and tosses him her cell phone.

_“You can try but the reception’s not always that great around here.”_

She leaves the room but stops just outside, listening to the muted beeps as he keys in a number on her phone. Although she would never usually eavesdrop on somebody else’s conversation, these are extenuating circumstances and she’s sure nobody would blame her for listening in. Even though he’s keeping his voice pitched low, she has no problem making out his half of the conversation.

_“Dude, it’s me…Yeah, yeah, I know… No, I’m okay. Got jumped by a couple of strays – fucked me over pretty good but I’ll live… Nah, it was the same old bullshit… Yeah, I found a safe place to stay. Gonna be a few days before I can get moving again. Motherfuckers broke every rib I have and I’m pretty sure they cracked my skull... No, no. They didn’t track me. Left me for dead on the side of the road... Shut up and listen for a minute, will ya? My wallet’s missing, so take care of my cards and shit and cancel anything I have going for the next few days... I don’t know, tell people I’m contagious or something. That’s your job, not mine... Oh and call Flanery so he stops freaking out. I can feel him from here… Yes, Clark... No, Clark... I will… Yeah, yeah, fuck you too.”_

She slips away toward the kitchen as he disconnects the call, more questions flooding her mind. Strays? She wondered what or who he was referring to. And his ribs and skull were cracked? Then why the hell wasn’t he letting her get him to a doctor?

As she starts putting together a meal, absent-mindedly feeding scarps to the ever-present Beegle, her mind churns through a dozen possible answers, none of them adding up to the man, Norman she reminds herself, that she has laying in her guest room. He seems too well put together to be involved in drugs or gangs, although she can see there’s a dark edge to him, not too far under the surface. Well, she thinks, if I don’t like his answers, it’s only a short ride to the sheriff’s station from here.

Once the food is cooked, she loads two heaped plates onto a tray along with two steaming mugs of strong, black coffee and heads back to the guest room. Norman is laying with his eyes closed, chest rising and falling softly, and she’s relieved to see he’s pulled the comforter back up to cover his lower half. She’s not sure she could have a serious conversation with him clad in only his underwear.

He opens his eyes as she comes in, nostrils flaring at the smell of the food she’s bearing. Carefully, he pulls himself up into a sitting position as Lucia slides the tray onto the bedside table. She hands him a plate and a fork, leaving his coffee within reach, while she takes her plate and cup over to the armchair she spent the night in. Sitting down and balancing the plate on her knees, she glances up to find him looking at his plate, piled high with sausage, bacon and scrambled eggs, with a wide grin on his face. 

 _“What?”_ she asks. _“Please don’t tell me you’re a vegetarian.”_

He actually laughs out loud at that, shaking his head.

 _“No, far from it. I’m just not that used to breakfast at...”_ he turns his head to check out the bedside clock, _“three o’clock in the afternoon!”_

_“Well, when strange men get thrown on the hood of my car in the middle of the night, it tends to mess with my body clock. If you don’t want it, I’m sure Beegle will be more than happy to take it off your hands.”_

_“No, no, I want it.”_

He digs his fork into the scrambled eggs and starts devouring them. Lucia turns to her own plate and spears a sausage with her fork, the first mouthful making her realize just how hungry she is. They eat quickly and quietly until both plates are clear. Propping the pillows up behind him and reaching for his coffee, Norman leans back with a contented sigh. Putting her plate on the floor, Lucia tucks her legs up under her, hands cradling the heat of her coffee mug. She looks expectantly at Norman over the rim as she takes a sip.

 _“So,”_ he says hesitantly, _“I guess I owe you an explanation.”_

When Lucia doesn’t answer him, he clears his throat and carries on.

_“My job requires a lot of travelling and when I’m not flying all over the country, I live in the city so, whenever I can, I like to get out to the woods, as far away from civilization as I can and just kick back, you know? I’ve been lucky in the past few years that I’ve gotten to spend most of my summers working in Georgia and, while I love that I can just get on my bike and escape into the wilds there too, there’s something about being here, especially when fall is coming that’s just invigorating, like a jolt to my body’s batteries, do you know what I mean?”_

Lucia nods her agreement. She understands exactly what he means, it’s the way she feels at the end of every winter in New York, that itching in her soul to just get away from people and run free in the great outdoors. He reads the look on her face and smiles before continuing.

_“I turn off my cellphone, leave the laptop at home, rent a car and find a cheap motel in the smallest town I can, where I know nobody is going to want anything from me and I just… breathe. I don’t bother anybody and nobody bothers me. Usually.”_

He stops to take a swig of his cooling coffee.

_“So what changed this time? How’d you nearly end up as roadkill?”_

_“Well, man can only live off of microwaved meals for so long before he craves a real meal. There was a bar across the street from my motel, so I figured I’d take a walk, get some food and maybe have a beer or two. And there I was, minding my own business, when this girl walks in.”_

Lucia tries and fails not to roll her eyes at this last statement. Of course there was a girl involved, she thinks, a  good looking guy like him, how could there not have been.

_“We talked and I bought her a beer, nothing serious, a little flirting maybe. She was a local and we were chatting about the area and things to do, when these four guys arrive and she gets this nervous look on her face and excuses herself to go to the ladies room.”_

_“She knew them? They were locals too?”_

_“No, I don’t think they were local but I think they’d been in the area long enough to get a reputation around town. You could feel the way the atmosphere changed when they walked in, everyone in the bar got a little antsy, started concentrating real hard on their drinks. And it’s not like these were tough looking guys, you know, but you could see they were the kind of assholes nobody likes to have around.”_

Lucia thinks of the bar here in her town and, although she doesn’t frequent it that often, she knows the kind of men he’s talking about. They blow into town for the summer and think they own the place; that they’re somehow entitled to preferential treatment because their money is helping put food on the locals’ tables. They dazzle the local girls with their stories of city life and their seemingly endless flow of cash and they never take no for an answer.

_“I was just finishing my beer and thinking I’d call it a night when I saw the girl I’d been talking to come out of the restroom and head towards the door. She only made it halfway before they had her surrounded. From what I could tell, it seems they’d met her before and she’d told them in no uncertain terms that she wasn’t interested but guys like that only hear what they want to hear and I think they saw her as a challenge.”_

Norman takes another long drink of his coffee and Lucia feels her meal settling uncomfortably in her stomach. She’s been on the receiving end of a similar situation in her past and she can empathize with the girl without ever having met her. Norman leans over to put down his empty mug, wincing a little as his ribs twist under his skin.

_“She held her own pretty well there for a few minutes and I was starting to think that they were just going to let her pass but this one guy just couldn’t let it go. She tried to push past him and when he grabbed her, well, that was it for me. There are certain things in this life that I won’t tolerate and laying your hands on a woman that’s not given you permission is one of them. Let’s just say that he and I had a short but bloody discussion that ended with him on the floor and me escorting the lady to her car.”_

He rubs at the dark smudges of bruises across his knuckles and Lucia realizes now that those wounds weren’t from the accident. Her mind tries to equate the soft-spoken, articulate man in front of her with someone who would punch a guy out in a bar fight over a girl and she surprises herself when she finds that she readily believes it. Something about him makes her think that this isn’t the first brawl he’s been in although his demeanor seems to suggest he’s a lover not a fighter.

_“So, how did you get from there to where you ended up?”_

_“Because I was dumb and maybe a little arrogant. I made sure the girl was safely in her car and gone before I started walking back to my motel and I guess I wasn’t paying attention and it just didn’t occur to me that they might follow me. In my mind it was over with, the dude learned a short, hard lesson, and there was nothing more to it. Unfortunately, him and his asshole buddies didn’t see it the same way and they jumped me just before I reached my room._

_They took me by surprise and there was no way I could take on the four of them, so they dragged me off into the woods behind the motel and took turns in kicking the shit out of me until they were sure I wasn’t getting up anymore. I could hear them debating what they were going to do with me, how it would be easier to just finish me off rather than risk me going to the cops. I think maybe I blacked out for a bit because next thing I know they bundled me into the back of their truck and were looking for the right spot to end me._

_You coming along was an easy solution to them. They figured I’d be dead for sure after they tossed me at your car. They didn’t even give the driver a second thought. Lucky for both of us, I guess I hit at enough of an angle just to bounce right off again. I’m just sorry you had to get caught up in this shit.”_

_“Lucky?”_ Lucia snorts. _“There was nothing lucky about it. Those guys tried to murder you, don’t you get that? They beat you to near death and then threw you, from a moving vehicle, into the windshield of an oncoming car to finish you off. We have to call the police right now. They’re not getting away with this.”_

She reaches for her phone, which is still lying on his bed but his hand grabs it before she can, snatching it out of her way.

_“What the fuck, Norman? What are you doing? I don’t think you quite comprehend what happened to you, I don’t know, maybe you’re concussed or something and you’re not quite processing stuff correctly but. Somebody. Tried. To. Kill. You.”_

She enunciates the last part slowly and clearly, holding out her hand for the phone but he keeps it clenched in his fist, out of her reach.

 _“No,”_ he says, firmly, _“no cops. I already told you that.”_

 _“Why the hell not?”_ Lucia demands.

_“Because I have a reputation to maintain. If something like this were to hit the news, it could blow my career to pieces and I’m not willing to risk it. It happened, it’s done, I lived and I just want to put it behind me and move on.”_

_“Are you fucking kidding me? You were almost murdered and you’re worried about your job! Your job? Does that sound as crazy to you as it does to me? You just want to let those guys get away with it?”_

She’s out of her seat, hands gesticulating as she paces beside the bed, looking at him incredulously.

_“Oh, I’m sure they’ll get theirs one of these days, don’t worry about that but, for now, I just want to keep my head down, find someplace to stay while I heal up and then go back to New York and forget all about it.”_

Lucia stares at him, trying to process all that she’s heard, her natural instincts telling her she should just ignore what he wants and call the damn police and get him to a damn hospital to get his fool head examined. Instead she sinks back down into her chair, eyes never leaving his face. He holds her gaze and, after a minute, she sighs deeply, knowing she’s going to give him what he wants. She leans back in the chair, pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, hugging them to her. Norman takes this as her silent acquiescence to his request and he nods his head in thanks to her.

_“It’s for the best, I swear. Involving the cops will only end badly, you have to trust me on this. Can you do that, Lucia, can you trust me?”_

He’s staring at her unwaveringly but she thinks long and hard before she answers him.

 _“Trust has to be earned and I hardly know you,”_ she says, unfolding her legs and standing up. _“But what I can do is respect your wishes, even if I think you’re an idiot and you’re making a colossal mistake. It’s not my place to make that decision for you.”_

 _“Fair enough,”_ he nods. _“I appreciate that. It really is for the best, I promise you.”_

 _“Yeah, well that remains to be seen,”_ she replies as she leaves the room.

 


	3. Chapter 3

When Lucia leaves the room, Norman lays his head back, intending to get some more rest and let his body heal as much as he can. He has no idea how long she’s going to let him stay here and he needs to be stronger if he wants to carry out the plan he’s been mulling over in his mind. He can feel his body fighting against the wounds he received and while the surface may be healing rapidly, he knows he has a lot more serious internal injuries that are going to take a bit longer to put right.

He closes his eyes and concentrates on evening out his breathing but sleep eludes him and he flicks his eyes open again, irritated. He looks around the room, with its gleaming wood furniture and cheery décor and wonders if the cabin belongs to Lucia or if she’s only staying here for the summer.

Lucia. His mind rolls her name around and her image comes unbidden to him. He can’t deny that there’s certainly something about her that has his interest. The fact that she didn’t freak out on the side of the road the night before but kept a cool head and got him to safety, speaks volumes to him about her personality. He can tell from the way she talks that she has a strong will and a quick mind and he’s not sure she bought half the story he told her. Hell, he probably wouldn’t have believed it either. He knows he’s not the greatest story-teller, that’s someone else’s job not his. What he is good at is making people believe in the story they’re being told.

For a fleeting moment, he wonders what would happen if he told her the truth – would she believe him or would she drive him straight to the nearest mental institution and have them lock him away? He pushes the thought aside as useless speculation, it’s not like he could ever tell her anyway. He knows she was listening in to his phone call, he could hear her breathing outside the door as clearly as if she was lying next to him, the rustle of her clothing as she slipped away after. He’d chosen his words carefully to get his message across to Clark on the other end but he was sure she’d picked up on the word ‘strays’ which had slipped out before he could stop it.

Strays! Fucking mongrels is more like it, he thinks, teeth baring in an angry grimace. His mind replays the events of the night before. He didn’t really lie to Lucia, he just kind of bent the truth of the situation a little bit. He really did go to the bar for a meal and a quiet drink, even though he should have known better. He was aware that there were others like him in the area, he’d smelled their trails in the woods and made sure to keep out of their way. What he hadn’t expected was for them to walk into the bar, larger than life and twice as ugly. As soon as the door opened, the hairs on his arms and neck had bristled, the scent of them flooding his nostrils instantly.

He’d kept his head down, concentrating on his food, waiting for them to settle before he made a move to leave. He knew they’d noticed him too, saw a couple of them glance his way from the corner of his eye. He hoped, if he played it cool, he’d get out without a problem. He’d lied to himself that they were more interested in their beer than in him but he already knew in his gut that the evening wasn’t going to end well.

And then there was the girl, she was the damn catalyst for the whole thing, getting caught up between them like a lamb to the slaughter. He’d groaned inwardly when they’d started toying with her, pushing her slender frame from one to the other while the other patrons of the bar averted their eyes and chose to ignore her pleas for help. With a growl of frustration, he’d slipped from his seat at the bar and inserted himself between them and the girl, pushing her towards the exit while he stared the leader down. It only took a moment for the recognition to dawn in the other guy’s eyes and then Norman knew he was in trouble.

Not wanting to start anything inside, he’d gone for the element of surprise, rocking the guy’s jaw with a solid left hook, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone against teeth and smelling rather than seeing the fine mist of blood that shot from his mouth, before shoving him hard into his buddies and bolting for the door. He was gratified to see the parking lot was clear, the girl’s taillights disappearing into the distance. Turning away from the road, he’d made it as far as the tree-line before they caught up to him.

He’d spun to face them, lowering into a half crouch, hands up and ready in front of him but it was pointless and he knew it. He couldn’t expect them to fight fair – these were strays, his code of honor meant nothing to them. They’d carefully circled him, starting almost immediately with the taunting, their hatred and distaste for him pouring from their lips like venom. He tried to keep them all within view but it was impossible and, at an unknown signal from their leader, two of them had taken him from behind, laying him out on the ground before he could even land a punch much less do anything else. One on one he might have stood a chance, he knew his experience and skill far outweighed theirs but there was no way they were giving him that opportunity. They wanted him to suffer, pure and simple, before they took his life.

At first he’d fought back but soon realized the futility of it and, seeing that it was giving them more pleasure, he’d stopped. Closing his mind to the pain, he’d turned his thoughts to his loved ones instead, silently reaching out for Sean in his mind but feeling him just out of reach. As the thugs had ravaged his body with their blows, his last thoughts were of his son before he sank into oblivion, sadness weighing heavy on his heart.

His consciousness ebbed and flowed for an indeterminate amount of time. He’d heard them discussing what to do with him next, the strays bickering among themselves over the best way to finish him off. Over the stench of his own blood, he could smell the sharp tang of whiskey as they passed around a bottle and his mouth moistened at the scent.

He came awake, finally, aware that he was in some kind of vehicle, the cold night air rushing over his face and reviving him a little. Just as he was wondering if there still might be a chance for him to get out of this alive, three pairs of hands grabbed him, violently lifting him from the bed of the truck, and for a second he was airborne. There was no time to do anything but let his body go limp before he impacted against the windshield of the car below him, his eyes fleetingly meeting the startled gaze of the woman inside as he was flung up and away to land on the unforgiving road surface.

And now he was here, safe for the time being, somewhere hopefully far enough away that the strays wouldn’t come looking for him. He knows they’ll be watching the news, checking for reports of his death and when nothing shows up, he knows they’ll be looking for him to finish what they started. For now, he’s secure in the knowledge that they have no trail to follow. Once Lucia loaded him into the car, it would have dead-ended, his scent disappearing once he left the ground and he’s not sure they’re smart enough to find him by conventional means.

He hears Lucia moving around elsewhere in the house, his ears picking up her footfalls as she climbs the stairs, he guesses to her own room, and shortly he hears the sound of a shower gurgling to life. His scalp itches where the blood has dried into his hair and his mind conjures an image of him sharing her shower, her curves glistening under the warm water as soap bubbles slide gently down her skin, her head tilted back to catch the jet of water against her hair, her neck exposed to him, just begging to be bitten.

He shakes his head, breathing hard, silently reprimanding himself for even thinking such things. _“Dude, get a fucking hold on your shit,”_ he thinks, _“this woman saves your worthless life and you want to mess hers up even more than you already have by trying to bang her? What is wrong with you?”_ He thumps his fist against the bed in frustration and tries to find something else to occupy his mind and block out the sounds of her showering above his head. His eyes alight on a painting above the stone fireplace across from his bed.

What he first took to be just a simple woodland scene, typical of the area, he now realizes has something off about it. He studies it intently, his artist’s eye following the flow of the scene, taking in the carefully crafted trees, sunlight dappling their leaves as they tower over the figure of a small girl, walking away from the viewer. She appears to be lost, one hand trailing a battered stuffed rabbit behind her, as she stares at something off to one side, the cute button of her nose just visible in her profile.

His eyes follow the line of her sight and for a second he can’t see what she’s looking at until suddenly his mind focuses and there, nestled among the tree trunks he sees a monster, unnoticed until he actually went looking for it. Its body is so well blended into the background that he’s sure most people will never see it with just a passing glance but now he knows it’s there, it’s as obvious to him as the central figure of the girl. He studies the alien lines of its face, trying to figure out if it’s something he should recognize, some childhood monster from fairytales, but it’s like nothing he’s ever seen before, a bizarre hybrid of animal and bird, its crowned head a mass of black feathers.

As he looks at its face, it dawns on him that the expression it wears is not a predatory one (and he should know) but instead it looks terrified, its talons not holding the tree to pull itself from hiding and attack but more to shield itself behind it. His eyes flick back to the small girl, now studying her as closely as he did the monster, and there it is, what he first mistook as a shaft of light falling on her through the trees is actually a wicked looking blade, curved against her thigh, clutched into her tiny fist. And, upon a second glance, he realizes that the stuffed rabbit is not really a toy, the small trail of blood dripping from its carcass carefully hidden among the golden leaves at the child’s feet.

A smile creeps across his face and he realizes he’s sitting forward in the bed, an involuntary move to get him closer to the painting. He lays back down, his mind and his eyes still focused on the image before him and he resolves to ask Lucia about it when she returns. He wonders if she’s ever even noticed the reversal of evil she has hanging on her wall. It occurs to him that the shower has stopped, silence filling the void.

After a few minutes, she reappears in his doorway, damp hair curling around her face. She’s dressed in jeans and a simple black t-shirt but, to him, she looks stunning, her skin flushed from the heat of the shower and the fresh scent of plums mixed with a flowery scent he can’t identify, tickling at his nostrils. His mind flashes back to the image he had of them together in the shower and he shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

_“Will you be okay if I just take Beegle for a quick run? He’s been cooped up in the yard all day and it makes him a little cranky.”_

_“Sure,”_ he replies. _“I’m not going anywhere.”_

She stares at him for a moment, her green eyes considering his face.

 _“I was thinking,”_ she starts, slowly, _“it’s probably not safe for you to go back to your motel, if those guys were at the bar across the street. They may still be in the area. I was planning on heading back to New York either this week or next but you’re welcome to stay here until I leave or at least until you’re feeling better. If you don’t feel up to travelling yet, that is. I mean obviously you can go anytime you want. I just wanted you to know you have the option if you need it.”_

She finishes in a rush, not making eye contact with him, her words tumbling over themselves to leave her mouth, the faint cadence of her accent suddenly stronger. Norman covers a smile as she finally meets his gaze. He holds out a hand to her and she hesitates for a second before walking over to take it in her own. He squeezes her fingers lightly and feels her skin tremble a little under his touch.

_“Lucia, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done, taking me in and caring for me. I’m not sure anyone else in your situation would have done the same. I know you have no reason to trust me and I know that you don’t entirely believe the story I’ve told you. But still you open your home to me and that means more than you’ll ever know. I don’t know how you can be so kind to someone you just met.”_

_“Because my mother raised me right. She taught me that if it’s within my power to help a person in need, then I should always do the right thing. She used to say that, maybe one day, I’d need that help returned to me and if I haven’t paid it out how would I ever expect to get it back.”_

She falls silent for a moment, looking to where her hand is tucked inside his. He squeezes her fingers once more and then she pulls her hand from his.

 _“But,”_ she says, _“that’s not to say that this…”_ she reaches behind her and produces a small handgun from the back of her jeans, which she holds up for him to see, _“isn’t going to be more than a hair’s breadth away from me at all times. Just to give you fair warning. I may be kind-hearted but I’m not stupid, Norman, and you’d do well to remember that.”_

He looks at her and nods, a new sense of respect for her coming to the surface. He watches as she tucks the gun safely back into the waistband of her jeans and covers it with her t-shirt.

_“Why don’t you call the motel you were staying at, tell them you’re sending someone to pick up your stuff, then when I get back with Beegle I’ll drive over there and pick it up.”_

_“You sure?”_

_“Yeah, I need to go to the store anyway, now I have a guest to feed,”_ she smiles _, “so I may as well make the trip worthwhile.”_

_“Thank you, Lucia, I’ll pay you back for this, I promise.”_

She waves off his gratitude with an impatient hand.

_“What’s the name of the motel?”_

_“Herman’s Hollow. You know it?_

_“Only by reputation! No wonder you got into a bar fight. That place is a little rough, what made you choose to stay there?”_

_“I liked the name,”_ he replies, feeling a little defensive and knowing that he can’t explain the real reason that he choose it.

He tilts his chin at her, as if daring her to comment further but she just shrugs and turns to the door.

_“Call them. Tell them I’ll be there in about an hour. I’ll take Beegle with me.”_

Norman watches her go, not taking his eyes off her, then reaches for the phone and dials information to get the motel’s number.

 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

He awakes some time later, chest tight with fear, the comforter tangled around his legs, his eyes flashing open as he struggles to figure out where he is. The room is dark around him and his eyes can’t focus enough to find the clock, so he has no idea how late it is. Remnants of a dream or something else tug at his mind until one clear image swims into focus – Lucia’s face, her bright green eyes etched with an unspeakable fear, blood spattered across her pretty features, her mouth open in a silent scream. He rips at the comforter, freeing his body, ears straining at the silence in the empty house as he pushes off from the bed, legs unsteady for a moment and ignoring the pains lancing through his insides.

Regaining his balance, he moves silently through the darkened house, senses on high alert, heart sinking as he realizes Lucia isn’t there. Traces of her scent permeate the whole house but he can find nothing fresh until he moves into the kitchen. His head swivels, nostrils flaring, as he takes in the empty grocery bags on the counter and the pile of fresh vegetables on the counter, waiting to be put away. With a murmur of frustration, he stalks the kitchen, peering out through the back door, wondering where she is.

A muffled thump behind him causes him to spin sharply, hissing a little at the pain behind his ribs. The noise came from behind what he had assumed was the door to the pantry and he approaches it cautiously, body alert, as he twists the handle and pulls it quickly open to reveal not shelves stocked with provisions but a short corridor leading down to another closed door. The thump sound comes again, a little louder now with the door open and he smells Lucia’s scent stronger than before, enticing him to follow. Making no sound at all in his bare feet, Norman moves swiftly along the corridor until he’s standing outside the other door.

Without hesitation he swings it open, arms up and poised for a fight, only to find the room beyond lit with a warm, friendly light and Beegle racing to the door to greet him, tail wagging so much his whole hind-quarters are swinging from side to side. Norman reaches down to tickle the dog’s ears as he stands in the doorway, mouth slightly open, staring around the room. A wall of windows faces him, dark now but he can imagine the way the sunlight floods this room during the day. The walls are hung with a multitude of paintings with more canvases leaning against the open spaces underneath. An artist’s easel is set up by the windows, alongside a drawing desk and a full but tidy work table. A large comfy-looking sofa is alongside the desk, a pile of books on the floor by its feet. A more conventional wood desk sits along the back wall, papers neatly stacked in trays, a laptop open in the center among a collection of knick-knacks and photographs.

Before he can look for Lucia, she comes into view from behind the open door, a large canvass held up in her hands blocking him from her view as she sways across the room, earbuds tucked into her ears and his sensitive hearing can pick up the faint thump of music from where he’s standing. He watches as she drops the canvas safely to the ground, stacking it with the others already there, and then steps back to look at it. Norman smiles to himself, leaning against the doorframe, his earlier panic seeping away as he watches her hips undulating to the music, her arms raising slightly as she matches the rhythm. She dances in place for a moment, lost in herself, and then turns back the way she came, stopping dead in her tracks when she sees him in the doorway, her hands flying up to pull out the earbuds as her face flushes a deep red.

 _“Enjoying the show?”_ she asks, putting her hands on her hips and cocking her head at him.

 _“Yes, actually,”_ he replies, chuckling softly and crossing his arms over his bare chest, amused at the way Lucia’s eyes keep flicking down his torso and back to his face.

 _“Well, show’s over,”_ she says, stepping forward to steer him out of the room, her cool hands making contact with the warm flesh of his chest, causing the hairs along his arms to prickle.

Norman doesn’t budge under her touch, although he’s pleasantly surprised by the strength of her body against his as she tries to turn him around. He looks past her, his eyes still trying to take in the art crowding the room beyond.

_“Did you do all this?”_

_“Yes, and I don’t usually let people back here so, if you don’t mind…”_ She pushes against him again and this time he acquiesces to her touch, the look in her eyes telling him that he’ll be overstepping a mark if he doesn’t leave now. As he backs into the corridor and turns to head back to the kitchen, the pain that has been lying dormant behind his ribs suddenly gives a sharp kick, causing him to put a hand out against the wall to steady himself as his breath comes in shallow gasps. He feels Lucia’s arm slipping around his waist as she pulls his arm over her shoulder, taking some of his weight onto her.

 _“You need to be back in bed,”_ she chides softly, steering him slowly back to the kitchen and through it to his room, Beegle close on their heels. As she helps him carefully back onto the bed, his eyes catch sight of the painting on his wall once more.

 _“Is this your work too?”_ he asks, indicating it with his head as he sinks back onto the soft bed, Beegle jumping up to lay beside him, oblivious to his owner’s look of disgust.

Her head swivels to follow his gaze and she stares at the painting for a moment, a smile playing across her lips that he finds charmingly attractive.

 _“Oh, so you’ve met Arianna, poor little soul, lost in the woods,”_ she says, turning back to face him, her eyes sparkling. _“Yes, she’s one of mine.”_

Norman looks at her with a newfound appreciation, eager to learn more about this woman, whose life he’s invaded.

 _“Oh, I think she can take care of herself,”_ he replies, _“I’m more worried about the innocent life she’s about to end with that knife.”_

Lucia’s smile widens.

_“So, you noticed my monster, huh? You have a good eye. Most people have never even spotted him.”_

_“A monster? Is that what he is?”_ Norman asks, eyes locked on her face.

_“Of course… don’t you see the way he looks, his claws and his teeth.”_

_“All I see is a soul afraid its existence is about to be snuffed out. Lots of creatures, and some people, have teeth and claws, Lucia, it doesn’t make them evil.”_

She holds his gaze for a long moment, then gives a small laugh, the sound tickling at his senses and he realizes she was testing him, making sure he really understood what she was trying to capture in her art.

 _“You really do have a good eye,”_ she says as she leaves the room, _“but maybe tomorrow, if you’re feeling up to it, you can try taking a shower. You smell like wet dog!”_

She goes out, trailing laughter behind her.

Norman lays back against the pillows, a grin splitting his face as he listens to her footsteps disappearing into the kitchen, soon followed by the sound of her softly singing as she starts preparing dinner.


	4. Chapter 4

Norman awakes the next day to the smell of freshly-brewed coffee filling the house. He stretches languidly under the covers, testing the painful areas of his body and finding he’s feeling a lot better than the past couple of days. He grins to himself though, as he realizes Lucia was right, he really does smell like wet dog and he resolves to take a shower as soon as he’s had some of that coffee.

He checks the clock on the bedside table and is surprised to see it’s almost noon. He and Lucia spent the previous evening discussing art and living in New York, both surprised to find that they frequented a lot of the same galleries and bars but that somehow their paths had never crossed. They talked until the early hours, until he could see her eyelids were struggling not to close and then he insisted she go to bed. He had fallen asleep smiling at the strange twist of fate that had brought him to this intriguing woman.

Pulling himself carefully off the bed so as to not awaken any fresh bursts of pain, he makes his way slowly to the bathroom, thinking that maybe he better take a shower first before he does anything else. He closes the door behind him and strips out of the boxer briefs he’s been living in for the past few days, wrinkling his nose in disgust as he kicks them off. He turns the faucet on the shower and while the water is warming up, he stands in front of the mirror above the sink, twisting his body to examine the marks left by his would-be executioners. Most of the lacerations have healed over already and the deep bruising covering his ribs is already an ugly puce color.

He gingerly feels his scalp, wincing as his fingers encounter the bump that’s still prominent on his head. Sighing, he thinks he’ll have to forgo washing his hair for another day or two, as he stares at himself in the mirror, hands rubbing roughly at the stubble layering his cheeks. Turning, he tries to examine the wound on his back, eyes narrowing at the jagged pink scar that’s running across his skin. He doesn’t remember which one of them bit him but he knows he’s going to make them all pay, sooner or later.

The small bathroom is filling with steam, so Norman pushes away from the sink and steps under the gushing water pouring from the showerhead, gasping as the heat meets his skin. He stands, hands planted on the tiles in front of him, head tilted out of the way as he lets the hot water stream over him, loosening the aches from his muscles. Sighing contentedly, he turns, letting the water work at his back as he reaches for the bottle of bodywash on the shower rack. Pouring a generous handful, he starts lathering his skin, nose twitching as the same scent he smelled on Lucia fills the air.

As the water runs over him, he starts to feel a little more like himself, his body waking up under the gentle massage of the shower and he feels his cock starting to harden with the stimulation. As is his usual morning ritual whenever he’s single, he slides a soapy hand down his torso until his thick fingers slide over his length and he wraps around it. Grunting softly under his breath, he begins to slowly tug at himself, his slick palm sliding up and down until his cock is rock hard and throbbing under his touch. He quickens his pace, pulling roughly at himself, legs locked as the water continues to jet over his soap-slicked skin. His breathing quickens as he feels his body building to its climax and he raises his free arm, leaning his forearm against the cool, white tiles and resting his head against it, closing his eyes to enjoy the sensations coursing through him. As soon as his lids close, Lucia’s face flashes into his mind, her green eyes sparkling at him from behind her dark lashes as her laugh sends tingles down his spine and suddenly he’s coming hard, his hand clenching to a fist against the wall as his body jerks and he ejaculates into the hot water.

A low moan escapes from him as his fist pumps a few more times around his cock before he lets it go, straightening up from the wall and opening his eyes, feeling a little dazed. He shakes his head, reaching to turn the faucet over to the cold side of the dial, figuring he needs to cool off a little but still her image is floating behind his eyes, teasing him as much as the scent of her surrounding him. Frustrated, he washes away the last of the soap under the chilly water and slams off the faucet, stepping out to towel himself dry.

Heading back into his room, he rummages in the large backpack that Lucia brought back from the motel for him, until he finds his razor and shaving foam. Going back to the bathroom, he swipes the condensation from the mirror and sets about tidying up his face, working carefully around his goatee until he wipes away the last of the foam and turns his head from side to side to check the result. He tugs thoughtfully at one of the grey patches speckling his beard, wondering when he suddenly got old enough for those, then turns away from the mirror to go in search of fresh clothes.

He’s always packed light, it’s become a joke among his close acquaintances that he can fit his whole world into one backpack and his trips to the woods are no exception. With the jeans gone that Lucia valiantly tried to wash but couldn’t salvage, he’s down to one pair, his sweatpants, and a few t-shirts. Digging to the bottom, he’s gratified to find clean underwear at least and he dresses quickly, pulling the clothes over his still damp skin in his urgency to go in search of the coffee that he can smell once more.

The kitchen is filled with the bright sun of a late summer’s afternoon, everything bathed in a golden glow, the back door open letting in a myriad of outdoor smells that pull at Norman’s senses while he pours himself a generous mug of the hot coffee that’s bubbling in the pot. He pushes open the screen door, making sure it latches behind him and walks out into the small, neat yard at the back of the house. Beegle barks happily and bounds across the short grass to meet him, jumping crazily until Norman reaches down to pet his head and then he shoots back to where Lucia is sitting on a sun lounger, legs tucked under her, book open on her lap.

She looks up at the noise, smiling as he takes the lounger next to hers, easing himself down to sit on its edge so he can face her.

 _“Well, don’t you clean up nice!”_ she says, taking in his appearance while he blows on his coffee.

_“Gotta say, I feel a lot more human, that’s for sure. Just wish I coulda washed my hair too but I’ll do it next time.”_

_“Why didn’t you wash it, I thought there was shampoo in there?”_ She frowns slightly.

 _“Yeah, there was but it’s still too sore. I didn’t want to risk the pain,”_ he admits with a chuckle.

 _“Wimp,”_ Lucia mumbles, standing up and taking his head in her hands. He feels her gently parting his hair, fingers probing around the wound. _“Well the cut has healed completely so I don’t think it would hurt to wash it, as long as you’re careful of the bump. Wait here.”_

She heads back into the kitchen and he takes a long swig of his coffee, savoring the rich taste on his tongue, while he wonders what she’s up to. A few minutes later she returns and he stares dubiously at the bucket she has swinging from one hand and the bottle of shampoo she has in the other, a towel slung over her shoulder.

 _“C’mon,”_ she says brightly, indicating with her head that he should follow her.

Reluctantly, Norman gets up, setting down his coffee cup and following her across to the small stone patio at the edge of the house. She directs him to sit at one of the plastic chairs circling the small table there as she places the bucket down in front of him. He can see a faint trace of steam rising from its rim.

 _“You better take your shirt off,”_ Lucia says and he meets her eyes for a moment before complying, pulling the soft material over his head and tossing it on the table.

_“Now lean back and don’t move… unless you want me to drown your sorry ass.”_

He does as she says, watching her reach into the bucket and lift out a plastic jug full of water. As she brings it over his head, he closes his eyes, feeling the first gentle trickle of wetness soaking into his scalp. Before long she’s drenched his hair through, trickles of warm water running down his neck and dripping to the ground. He hears her set down the jug and pop the top on the shampoo and then her fingers are on his head, massaging slowly and gently. A sigh huffs out of him before he can stop it and he knows, without looking, that she’s smiling behind him. He relaxes into her touch as she methodically runs her fingertips in tiny circles over every inch of his head, carefully working around the sore part until he can feel the shampoo slicking his hair in a mass of bubbles.

He’s had his hair washed and styled by dozens of professionals in his lifetime but Norman has never felt quite so relaxed as he does at this moment, the warmth of the afternoon sun heating his bare torso, the sounds of the woods soothing his mind and the feel of Lucia’s hands gently caressing his scalp sending waves of contentment out along his nerve endings. Finally she pulls away and he squashes the feeling of disappointment that bubbles up in his chest as she re-fills the jug and begins rinsing the suds from his hair. Once she’s satisfied she has it all out, she squeezes his hair, running her fingers through it to remove the excess water before taking the sun-warmed towel from the table and softly drying his hair with it. She works at it for a few minutes, then drapes the towel around his neck, nudging his shoulder with her fingers to let him know she’s done.

Grudgingly, he opens his eyes, squinting slightly against the sun and wondering if his sunglasses are in his backpack. He straightens up in the chair and watches as Lucia tips out the last dregs of water from the bottom of the bucket, playfully flicking her wet fingers in Beegle’s direction who barks his protest at her trick and runs off across the yard. Reaching up to run his fingers through his hair, he messily pulls it into its usual style, small drops of water still flicking off the ends. Lucia turns to look at him, resting her butt against the edge of the table as she meets his gaze, arms folding across her chest.

A small chill runs suddenly up his arms as though the sun passed behind a cloud and he shivers involuntarily. He’s reaching forward for his t-shirt from the table when Lucia speaks, stopping him in his tracks.

_“What kind of dog was it?”_

_“What?”_

_“The wound on your back. That didn’t come from any bar fight, it’s an animal bite, so I’m guessing they sicced some kind of dog on you but damned if I can figure out what kind of dog can control itself enough to leave only one mark on its prey.”_

_“Honestly… I don’t remember. Everything is kind of a blur after they grabbed me, just a lot of pain and I guess maybe I passed out for a while because the next thing I remember is sailing through the air and meeting your windshield head-on. There could have been a dog, I really don’t know.”_

The skeptical look on her face tells him she’s not buying a word of it and he averts his eyes, reaching the rest of the way for his shirt and slowly pulling it back over his head. He hates lying to her, seeing the mistrust in her eyes but he knows he has no other choice. He straightens his t-shirt, still avoiding looking at her and he hears her sigh, her breath barely a whisper but it sounds like thunder to his sensitive ears. She picks up the bucket, tossing the shampoo and jug inside and holds out her hand for the towel on his lap, which he passes to her.

_“There are cold cuts in the fridge if you’re hungry. I’m going to work for a little while. You should stay out here, the sun will do you good.”_

And with that, she takes the bucket, calling to Beegle as she walks back into the house, leaving Norman alone with his thoughts again. Getting up, he walks back over to his abandoned coffee, cold now, and tips it out on the grass before flopping onto the sun lounger, folding his arms up behind his head as he contemplates the gently swaying trees surrounding the yard. He watches their rhythmic movement in the slight breeze, letting his mind drift. He knows he should probably call Clark again, plus about twenty other people he can think of, to get an update on what’s been happening in his absence and he should definitely call Sean. He groans inwardly at the knowledge of how that conversation is going to go and pushes the thought aside. Right now all of that seems far away and untouchable, his real life on hold for the time-being while he takes a short hiatus. There’s still a few weeks before he really has to be somewhere that he absolutely can’t get out of, even though he’s sure there’ll be plenty of other people pissed at him if he disappears for a while. But, for some reason, he just can’t seem to care. Being here, in this place, at this time, seems important to him and he’s not ready to leave yet.

The warm breeze lifts the damp hair from his forehead and he turns his face into it, inhaling deeply the scents it brings with it. His skin twitches with the urge to just jump the fence and head into the woods, running until his limbs ache and his sides are heaving. His fingers clench behind his head, the creak of his bones shifting slightly under his skin sounding way too loud in his ears. The pain in his ribs gives a dull prod as the skin across his abdomen ripples and undulates under his shirt, making him bare his teeth in a silent grimace. Sweat beads on his forehead and his chest heaves as he pulls himself back under control, forcing the Shift back down into its dormant state. He curses under his breath, his body doesn’t usually betray him like this, and it’s been a long time since the Shift took him without his initiating it, not since he was first turned in fact. He blames his weakened state, willing his body to relax as he breathes slowly in through his mouth and out through his nose.

A distinct rumble from his stomach reminds him he hasn’t had anything more substantial than a half a cup of coffee since dinner the previous night, so he gets up and goes back into the kitchen, pouring a fresh cup of coffee while he raids the neatly stocked fridge and makes himself a sandwich. Sitting at the kitchen island while he eats, his eyes constantly flick towards the closed door that leads to Lucia’s studio. He can’t deny that she intrigues him and there’s an obvious physical attraction which he’s pretty sure she’s feeling too. But it’s not just about that, he tells himself, for once he’s interested in her mind as well as her body, maybe even more so. Their discussion the previous night left his head spinning in a good way, her thoughts and views at times, both clashing with his or coming together completely. He loved the fact that she wasn’t afraid to argue with him if she thought he was wrong, explaining passionately her point of view until he either acquiesced or forced her to throw up her hands in defeat when he stuck to his guns.

Far too often in his life these days he’s surrounded by ‘yes men’, whose only job is to make him happy and who, most days, just make him miserable if he’s honest. Finding someone who didn’t want to fawn all over him, or who didn’t just break out into insane giggles at the mere sight of him was something of a novelty. It gave him breathing room to get to know her without all his baggage getting in the way. Not that he hadn’t brought enough baggage to the table already. He just hoped that she could see past that long enough for him to get to know her better. And he really did want to get to know her better, which kind of surprised him. It had been a long time since any woman had peaked his interest for more than just a casual relationship, years in fact, and, while he was being honest with himself, he also had to admit that she wasn’t his usual type.

The women whose company he found himself in were beautiful, of that there was no question, and they each had something that had drawn him to them but, inevitably, each of them left him, either by his decision or theirs, after nothing more than a few months and he had yet to regret a single one of them passing out of his life. Sean called it the three month itch, telling Norman not to sweat it, when the right one came along he’d know it. _“Easy for him to say,”_ thinks Norman with a mental snort, _“he already has his mate and she practically fell in his lap, it’s not like he had to go looking for her.”_ His eyes flick back to the door again and he allows himself to wonder if he’s found the one this time before shaking his head with a small laugh, telling himself to slow the fuck down, there’s a lot of hurdles between where he is now and finding out if that’s a possibility.

He finishes his sandwich and, taking the remainder of his coffee with him, he wanders into the living room, checking out the art hanging above the fireplace and feeling disappointed when he realizes it’s just a reproduction of a popular print and not one of Lucia’s originals. He really wants to see more of her work but he understands her need for privacy in that area and knows he’ll have to wait for an invite. He takes a seat on the over-stuffed sofa, grimacing a little at its flowery pattern and hoping that Lucia wasn’t responsible for decorating this place. He finds the remote for the ancient-looking tv in the corner and presses the power button, half expecting it not to start and pleasantly surprised when it does.

Unfortunately all he can find to watch that isn’t drowned in static are a few local stations, broadcasting the usual fare of news, weather and what’s happening in the area, which it seems isn’t a lot. He turns the sound low, sliding down on the sofa until his legs are stretched out in front of him and his head is resting comfortably against the back. The muffled sound of the tv washes over him like white noise, relaxing him, and he can feel himself starting to drift away into sleep. He lets himself go, knowing that rest is the best thing he can do to heal his body right now.

In the darkness of his sleep, the dream comes again, the vision of Lucia overpowering his mind, the drops of blood on her face swimming before his eyes as she soundlessly screams before him. He reaches for her, desperate to get her away from whatever is hurting her, but he feels hands grabbing at him, keeping him in place and he struggles against them until he’s torn from his sleep. Confused, he blinks in the darkened room, the only light coming from the tv screen, as he realizes he can still feel hands holding him and he lashes out to grab them, a vicious snarl ripping from his lips as he restrains his assailant.

 _“Norman!”_ Lucia says urgently from beside him, _“It’s me, let go.”_

He whips his head in her direction, hearing the pain in her voice but still too fuzzy from his dream to figure out that he’s the one causing it. She says his name again, pleading with him and finally his eyes focus on his hand, wrapped tightly around her forearm, her flesh pinched between his fingers and he lets go, pushing away from her. He stands up, horror flooding his body as he looks down at her, rubbing at her abused skin to get the blood flowing again. Thrusting his hands into his hair, he starts pacing to and fro in front of her, mentally berating himself for his stupidity. Lucia sits silently, hand still wrapped around her other arm, watching him until he drops to his knees in front of her. A part of his mind is grateful that she doesn’t pull away from him when he tenderly takes her hand in his, turning her arm to the light to inspect the dark bruise that’s already forming on her skin.

 _“I’m so sorry,”_ he says, voice filled with anguish at what he’s done, _“I was dreaming and you startled me. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’d never hurt you.”_

She stares at him for the longest time, assessing him it seems, but he doesn’t break her gaze or relinquish his hold on her hand, warm inside his.

 _“Its fine,”_ she says finally, _“it was an accident, no bones broken.”_

Norman lets out a deep breath, relief pulling a small smile from him as he strokes the back of her hand with his thumb.

 _“You looked like you were having a nightmare,”_ she says quietly, making no move to take her hand from his caress, _“I kept saying your name but I couldn’t wake you.”_

 _“I was…”_ he trails off, not wanting to elaborate, the image of her stricken face from his dream overlaying the concerned face in front of him.

_“Well, after the shock you had, I’d be surprised if you weren’t having nightmares.”_

She curls her fingers around his hand and squeezes gently and he knows that she forgives his outburst.

 _“C’mon,”_ he says, standing up and pulling her to her feet, _“I think it’s time I made you dinner for a change.”_


	5. Chapter 5

Norman leads her to the kitchen, directing her to sit on a stool at the table, shushing her protests that she should help. The first thing he does is make a beeline for the fridge, staring thoughtfully for a moment before pulling out a bottle of wine from the small collection inside. He puts it on the table next to Lucia and pulls two glasses from the nearby rack.

_“Corkscrew?”_

She points to a nearby drawer, then watches as he carefully uncorks the wine and fills each of their glasses.

 _“You know about wine?”_ she asks, as he sniffs at his glass before taking his first sip.

 _“Not a damn thing!”_ he replies, smirking at her over the rim of his glass. _“You?”_

_“I’m Italian, what do you think?”_

She laughs and sips her own wine, rolling it over her tongue, while he starts opening cupboards and drawers, pulling out a barrage of utensils before throwing open the fridge door again and gathering various food items into his arms.

 _“Can I cook this steak?”_ comes his muffled voice from inside the fridge.

_“Sure, that’s why I bought it.”_

_“Good, because lady, you are in for a treat tonight. I’m making you my special Steak-a-la-Reedus. It’s a big hit in my house.”_

He dumps what seems like half the contents of her fridge onto the counter next to the sink and starts sorting through it. Lucia slips off her stool, patting his arm as she passes.

 _“Maybe I should go turn the grill on then,”_ she says, heading out the back door.

 _“Umm…yeah, I was just getting to that. Thanks!”_ he yells after her as the screen door cuts him off.

Lucia shakes her head as she lights the grill, noticing the definite chill in the air signaling the end of summer. She sighs softly to herself, wondering how much longer she can stay here, knowing in her heart it will soon be time to leave. From the kitchen she hears the muffled sound of Norman singing, something off-key and unrecognizable to her ear, followed by a hollow clanging sound and a slightly louder litany of curse words. She chuckles, surprised at how quickly she’s adjusting to sharing her home with a complete stranger, and one with a dubious past at that. She knows there are things he’s still not telling her but she still has this overwhelming feeling that she can trust him.

She wonders if he’ll stay with her until she leaves for the city. He spoke of the importance of his job but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to get back to it, she thinks. Just another mystery he’s keeping close to his chest and, while she has to admit, there is something undeniably sexy about a man with secrets that need to be cracked, her practical, no-nonsense side is screaming for answers. Lost in thought, she doesn’t hear him open the door behind her, jumping slightly as he appears at her elbow, balancing a covered dish in one hand and their wine glasses in the other.

 _“I thought you might want this,”_ he says, handing her the glass before setting the dish down next to the grill.

_“Thanks. You might want to wait a few minutes, let it get a little hotter.”_

He nods in agreement, leaning back against the patio table, staring off into the darkening woods while he sips at his wine. Lucia studies his profile, mentally drawing the strong lines of his face. He turns his head as if he knows she’s studying him and she looks sharply away, suddenly fascinated by her wine glass. They stand in silence for a while longer, enjoying the night air, not needing to fill the silence with words, until a distinct rumble from Norman’s mid-section causes Lucia to snort out a laugh.

 _“I guess it’s time to start cooking,”_ he says, lifting the lid on the grill and transferring the steaks from the dish onto the hot rack. A dark fluid drips from each one as he carefully positions it over the flames, sizzling as it meets the heat and Lucia gets a scent of something tangy and spicy that sets her taste-buds alight.

_“So, Steak-a-la-Reedus, huh?”_

_“Yep, my boy loves it. My own special recipe,”_ he says proudly.

 _“Your boy?”_ Lucia’s mind turns this new fact over rapidly.

 _“Yeah, my son, Mingus,”_ he replies, watching her face carefully.

Lucia’s eyes flick to his arm, remembering the name tattooed there.

 _“How old is he?”_ she asks.

 _“He’ll be fourteen this year. Jesus, where did that time go?”_ He chuckles softly, staring at the steaks as he flips them with the tongs.

 _“And his mother?”_ Lucia watches a scowl darken his features for a brief moment before he chases it away but his voice is still a little tight as he answers.

_“She lives in Europe. Mingus usually stays with her during the summers when I’m working. Let’s just say things didn’t work out.”_

_“I’m sorry.”_

_“Nah, don’t be. I was an idiot back then, didn’t have a clue what I wanted. Didn’t even know who I was yet, hell, I’m not even sure I do now.”_ He gives a self-deprecating chuckle.

_“But she didn’t want him? I’m sorry, that’s a terrible question. It’s none of my business.”_

_“No, it’s okay. Things were fine until they weren’t, you know how it goes. So, when I decided to move back here permanently, I couldn’t leave him behind. Whatever had gone down between his mom and me had nothing to do with him. He was mine and I wanted him, plain and simple.”_

_“She didn’t fight for him?”_ Lucia asks, incredulously.

_“Honestly, I think it suited her fine. Raising a baby alone didn’t fit into her lifestyle. It’s not that she didn’t love him, it just would have been a bad decision for both of them. So I brought him home with me and now it’s just me and him.”_

_“So there’s no current Mrs. Reedus?”_

Norman laughs, shifting the steaks slightly with the tongs, sending sparks flying into the dark.

_“No, no Mrs. Reedus right now. How about you? Do you have some special guy pining for you back in the city?”_

_“Me? No, nobody serious. Just me and Beegle.”_

He smiles at her, his eyes locking with hers for a moment before he turns his attention back to the steaks.

 _Okay, I think we’re ready here”_ he says, flipping off the grill, sliding the steaks onto the waiting plate and picking it up along with his glass.

Lucia gets up, holding the door open for him and following him back into the kitchen. She sets about laying two place settings at the table as he stirs at the various pots and pans bubbling on top of the stove. While he puts the finishing touches to his masterpiece, she takes the wine bottle and re-fills both their glasses, sitting down just as he puts her plate in front of her with a small bow.

 _“Signora,”_ he says and watches her expectantly as she picks up her knife and fork.

Lucia cuts a small sliver from the steak and pops it in her mouth. It’s perfectly cooked, the juices bursting from it as she chews, mixing with the mouth-watering flavor he used to marinade it in. She swallows and looks up at him.

 _“Damn!”_ is all she can manage to say.

Norman grins, turning to get his own plate and taking a seat across the table from her. Lucia attacks her meal with gusto, devouring the delicious steak until there’s nothing left. She sits back with a sigh, eyeing Norman across the table as she reaches for her wine.

_“I might just have to keep you around if you’re going to cook like that for me.”_

_“Well, I might just have to stay a while then,”_ he smiles at her and she thinks he’s about to say something more when the shrill tone of her cell phone blares out from the other room. Lucia sighs and goes to retrieve it, cursing whoever has such appalling timing. She doesn’t recognize the number on the display but she answers it anyway, with an annoyed, _“Yes?”_

_“Hi, I’m looking for Norman? He called me from this number the other day and I don’t know how else to contact him. Is he there?”_

_“Sure, hold on,”_ Lucia replies, taking the phone back into the kitchen and handing it to Norman who is clearing the table. _“It’s for you. I’m going to go out and clean the grill.”_

She takes her jacket from the hook by the door and slips it on, calling to Beegle who eagerly follows her out into the dark. As she closes the door behind her, she hears Norman greet whoever’s on the line. She starts working on the still-warm grill, wiping it down, thinking about what might have been said, had the phone not interrupted them. She’s growing more attached to this man by the day but she knows there’s no point in pursuing something if he’s about to walk out the door any minute. _“Although,”_ she thinks to herself, an image of his half-naked body sprawled on the bed coming to her mind, _“maybe a little harmless fun is just what I need to end the perfect summer.”_

She’s certainly not opposed to a one- or two-night stand as long as both parties understand that’s all it is and the physical attraction she’s been feeling for him is undeniable. Washing his hair for him earlier, watching the way his eyes closed under her touch, it was all she could do not to straddle him right there in the yard and beg him to fuck her hard. She scrubs harder at the grill pan, hair flicking in her eyes, as she tries not to think about all the things she’d like to do to his body. The screen door squeaks behind her and she doesn’t turn until he speaks, scared he’ll see the flush in her cheeks or the want in her eyes.

_“Lucia?”_

She turns to face him, seeing he still has the phone to his ear.

 _“Umm..”_ he mumbles, _“where are we? I mean what’s the nearest town?”_

He looks at her hopelessly and she can hear muffled laughter coming from the other end of the phone. Trying not to smile, she tells him the name of the town and he relays it into the phone. He listens for a minute and then looks her way again.

_“Is there anywhere nearby I can have cash wired to?”_

_“Yeah, the general store in town, Frank’s.”_ She listens as he passes along this information, heart sinking a little at the thought that this might mean he’s leaving.

 _“Uh-huh… got it,”_ he’s saying into the phone as she turns back to finish with the grill. _“Can you call the car rental place as well, have them pick it up so they don’t think I stole the damn thing... Hey, that was one time and they got it back eventually! Anyway, that was totally Flanery’s fault, not mine… yeah, yeah, whatever… So tomorrow, yes, for the cash? Thanks, buddy, I’ll call you in a few days okay?..Yeah, I’ll get to him eventually. Tell him he can bite me… Later, dude.”_

Lucia hears him power off the phone and he walks across to stand beside her, holding it out to her. She takes it and slips it into the pocket of her jeans. Closing the lid on the now-sparkling grill, she packs away the cleaning supplies before turning to face Norman.

 _“So”,_ she begins hesitantly, _“you’re staying a little longer?”_

 _“If I’m still welcome,”_ he replies, stepping a little closer to her, _“I’d like to.”_

_“Of course you’re still welcome.”_

_“Good.”_

He reaches past her, his body unnecessarily close to hers, making her draw in a sharp breath as his arm brushes against her, and hooks the dirty grill tongs with his finger.

 _“Better wash these,”_ he says in a low voice and then walks away, back into the house.

Lucia takes her time putting the cover back on the grill, not trusting herself to follow him just yet.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The next few days pass quietly enough, Lucia getting the last of her canvasses packed away and ready for transport to the city. She and Norman fall comfortably into each other’s company, getting to know a little more about one another, although whenever she would mention his work, Norman would either slide right past the question or give her vague answers. She doesn’t push him on the subject as he is so open about other aspects of his life that she thinks he will tell her when he’s ready.

He talks of his family, of his father’s death and how that had affected his life and that, in turn, unlocked another of his mysteries – the name tattooed on his chest. In return, she tells him about her family, how her brother had never really taken to living in the states and couldn’t wait to return home as soon as he was old enough. How her parents had decided to move back to Italy for their retirement, leaving Lucia as the only one who truly adored her adopted homeland. They had transferred their summer home into her name as a parting gift, knowing how much she loved the place, but the family’s main home was sold and it was up to her to find her own way. She knew right away that the only place she wanted to live was New York and it took a few years of living in shoebox apartments until her art gained enough popularity for her to be able to afford her current, modest apartment.

Lucia still insists on checking over Norman’s wounds every day until the external ones are nothing more than blemishes on his skin and he assures her that the internal pain he’d been feeling had worn away to nothing. Once she’s convinced that he’s okay, she starts taking him on long walks through the woods surrounding the cabin, seeing that being inside all the time was making him a little stir crazy, no matter how hard he tries to hide it. She notices the change in him as soon as he is outside, seeing the way his eyes brighten and his whole demeanor became more animated, his hands expressing his words as they walk and talk for hours.

She loves seeing the surprise on his face when she takes him in the opposite direction one day, coming out of the trees at the edge of a wide lake that he hadn’t even known was nearby. Although quiet now, at the end of the season, she tells him that the place would be alive with visitors during the summer months. Taking his hand she leads him to one of her favorite places, a secluded overgrown clearing set back a little between the trees with an old wooden picnic table that everyone had forgotten about. Hidden enough to afford its users the illusion of privacy, it still has an amazing view of the lake and Lucia tells Norman that this is one of her favorite places to come and sketch or read.

As she unpacks the lunch that she brought for them, laying it out on the table, Norman takes Beegle down to the water’s edge, throwing sticks for him to chase and skimming stones out over the lake’s placid surface. The eager dog’s crazy antics and boundless enthusiasm have him laughing out loud and Lucia is smiling as she watches them, still surprised by how effortlessly Beegle has taken to him. She watches them for a while, wrestling together, splashing slightly in the shallow water as it laps up onto the shore before calling out that lunch is ready. Norman heads back to the table, Beegle dancing around his heels, and flops down on the wooden bench, a little out of breath.

 _“How on earth do you keep up with him?”_ he asks, helping himself to a bottle of water and chugging most of it down in one go.

_“I don’t! You think this is bad, you should see him in the city. That’s a whole new level of crazy.”_

_“And that’s why I have a cat,”_ chuckles Norman. _“Where did you get him from anyway? Isn’t he a hunting dog?”_

_“Well, we kind of found each other. A few years ago, when my parents were still here, we’d had some silly fight over something and I’d stormed out into the woods and spent my afternoon stomping around until I’d cooled off enough to go back and there he was, just sitting in the middle of the path. I swear you’ve never seen a more pitiful sight in all your life. His fur was so filthy and matted I couldn’t even tell what color he was, all I could see were his ribs poking out as he sat there and shook like a leaf. He was obviously petrified but he didn’t run as I approached him and the second he let me pet his head, I knew I was claimed. I belonged to him as surely as he belonged to me._

_He followed me back to the cabin without hesitation and I persuaded my dad to drive us to the vet. The whole time he just sat, curled up by feet in the car and then in the vet’s office, never made any attempt to run off. The vet said he was probably just under a year old, obviously malnourished and riddled with fleas. There were a few welts healing on the skin of his back which looked like somebody had hit him with something, so it was our best guess that some hunter had taken him out in the woods and lost patience with him because he was too young to learn and just abandoned him there._

_It happens around here sometimes and we’d taken in strays before so I spent the whole summer nursing him back to health with my father constantly telling me not to get too attached. But, by the time we came to leave for home, nobody argued when he climbed in the back seat with me and went to sleep._

_Do you believe in those moments when it seems the universe is just tweaking at your existence a little, guiding you on the right path? Well, I think that day in the woods was one of those tiny twists of fate and somebody or something, somewhere smiled on this little guy and put him directly in my path.”_

Norman nods thoughtfully, reaching down to ruffle the fur on the back of Beegle’s neck.

 _“Had a few of those moments myself,”_ he says. _“I don’t know if it’s fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it but I absolutely believe that certain souls come to us for a reason, no matter what form they’re in. Just the universe’s version of chess, I guess.”_

He straightens up, glancing across the table at her, but Lucia can see his mind is turned inward, his thoughts miles from where they are. She finishes the last of her sandwich, wondering who he’s thinking of, watching a lone rowboat making a slow trek across the far side of the lake, its owner nothing more than a silhouette in the afternoon sun. She doesn’t take her eyes from it until it pulls alongside one of the docks and the figure inside jumps out to tie it up. Looking back to Norman, he smiles and she sees in his eyes that he is back with her so she smiles in return. The wind ruffles his hair slightly, blowing it across his eyes and she feels her stomach tighten as he reaches up a hand to brush it away. It’s a tiny gesture but for some reason it makes her feel flustered and she busies herself with packing away the remainder of their lunch.

 _“Man, I wish I had a smoke,”_ he says, voice a little gravelly.

_“I didn’t know you smoked! You never said anything. Damn, you must be desperate by now.”_

_“Well, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t getting a little antsy for one but it’s not that bad. It’s not the first time I’ve gone cold turkey”_ he says with a shrug.

 _“I usually have a pack in the house but I’m trying to quit. I’m always trying to quit,”_ she laughs. “ _We can go drive to the store if you want? It’s not far.”_

_“Nah, maybe tomorrow. Right now I just want to sit here with you and enjoy the downtime while I can.”_

_“If you’re sure,”_ she replies and he nods, turning to look back out across the lake.

Lucia sighs, leaning her elbows on the table and folding her hands under her chin, as she watches the sun sparkling off the water, the tiny glints of light lulling her into a state of relaxation. All too soon, the sun starts to lower in the sky and the temperature starts to cool off a little. Norman pushes off against the table, stretching as he steps away from the bench. He picks up the picnic basket from the table and extends his other hand out to Lucia. Standing, she takes it and he wraps his warm fingers around hers, leading her from the clearing and back toward the house, whistling for Beegle to follow.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning, Norman wakes early, restless in the pre-dawn light. He lays there for a while, trying to will his body back to sleep but he knows it’s a fruitless endeavor. He realizes he can hear Lucia moving quietly around in the kitchen so he rolls out of bed, pulling on a pair of sweatpants from his pack and goes to see why she’s up so early.

_“Mornin’,”_ he says, rubbing at his eyes with the back of his hand in the bright light of the kitchen.

_“Hi,”_ she replies. _“Couldn’t sleep either, huh? I didn’t wake you did I?”_

_“No, just one of those mornings, I guess. Is there coffee?”_

_“Need you ask?”_ She pours him a mug and hands it to him, leaning next to him against the worktop. _“Actually we could do with some more, we’re nearly out and we should get you some nicotine before you turn homicidal on us,”_ she says, nudging her arm against his.

She sips at her coffee and he looks at her from the corner of his eye, noting her bed-ruffled hair and the way the over-sized t-shirt she sleeps in clings to her curves, the faint outline of her nipples pushing against the soft material. The warmth of her skin against his arm makes the hair on the back of his neck bristle and he feels a familiar stirring in the pit of his stomach but he doesn’t move away, relishing the sensations she awakens in him. It takes a second for him to realize she’s talking.

_“…and I really wanted to paint today,”_ she finishes.

_“I thought you were all done for the summer?”_ he asks, hoping he didn’t miss something in the time he was spaced out.

_“Yeah, well, tell that to my muse,”_ she laughs and he smiles back at her.

_“Tell you what, I’ll run to the store, if you want to get on with your work. I have to pick up that money transfer anyway. If you can trust me with your car that is?”_ he says jokingly.

_“Really? That would be great.”_

_“I might just take a run while I’m out,”_ he adds casually, not looking up from his coffee. _“Work out some of the kinks.”_ He rolls his neck a little to emphasize his point.

_“Well, don’t overdo it. I know you have this super-fast healing body and all but don’t make me have to patch you up all over again,”_ she chides him gently.

_“Hey, I think I’ve been the model patient! But no, I won’t overdo it, I promise.”_

Lucia gets the car keys from the hook by the door, holding them just out of reach while she looks him up and down.

_“You might want to put a shirt on,”_ she says with a smirk, handing over the keys, _“Frank kinda frowns on the whole topless thing in his store.”_

Norman pulls a face at her but takes his half-drunk coffee to his room to finish while he puts on his t-shirt and boots. By the time he gets back to the kitchen, she’s rinsing her empty mug in the sink. She raises an eyebrow when he hands her his too but washes it anyway. He gets directions for the store and then heads out into the chill morning air, folding his long frame into Lucia’s compact car and adjusting the seat until he’s relatively comfortable. He winces as he sees the small crack in the windshield, reflexively reaching up to touch his scalp. He makes a mental note that he needs to get that taken care of for her as he starts the engine and pulls out of the small front yard onto the dirt track that leads back to the main road.

Following Lucia’s directions, he soon finds the general store and Frank himself serves him.

_“Yup, Lucy said you’d be comin’. Don’t usually do a wire pick-up for somebody with no ID but she said she’d vouch for ya and that’s good enough for me. Said you’d had an accident and lost your wallet.”_

_“Yes sir,”_ replies Norman, meeting the other man’s eyes.

_“Well, that’s our Lucy, always taking in strays,”_ Frank chuckles as he slides across the paperwork for Norman to sign and counts over his money. Norman pockets the cash quickly then asks for a pack of smokes and grabs coffee, water and fresh pastries which he deposits on the worn counter by the register where Franks starts carefully ringing each item up and placing it in a paper bag.

_“You look kinda familiar to me, son. You ever stayed around here before?”_

_“No sir, I just have one of those faces I guess,”_ replies Norman, handing over the money for his groceries.

Frank stares at him for a moment longer before giving him his change and passing over the bag.

_“Hmmm, well you make sure you look out for our Lucy, she’s very precious to the people round these parts. You hear me, son?”_

_“Yes sir, I will. She’s a very special lady, that’s for sure.”_

He takes the grocery bag, thanking Frank for his help with the wire transfer and goes back out to the car. Instead of heading back to the cabin though, he turns the car in the opposite direction, leaving the small town behind him in a matter of minutes. He cranks the window down a little, the fresh air invigorating him as he concentrates on the road, keeping the car hovering around the speed limit. The last thing he needs right now is to be pulled over for speeding, he thinks, in a borrowed car with no license. The forested roads pass him by, the trees tinged with the first signs of golden leaves but he pays their beauty no mind, his attention focused on one thing only.

A few miles further down the road he pulls off into a small one-pump gas station and goes inside to ask for directions to the motel he’d been staying at. The teenage girl behind the counter recognizes him instantly, her eyes widening as she practically throws herself over the counter to get close to him. He sighs inwardly, being as polite as possible with her while she gushes all over him, barely stopping to take a breath until he places an arm around her shoulder and leans in conspiratorially to ask her if she can help him out with something. She nods her pretty head, his sudden closeness overwhelming her into a blessed silence. He gets the information he needs and jumps back in the car, leaving her leaning against the doorway of the store, waving madly after him.

Another twenty minutes and he starts to recognize where he is, the motel and bar soon looming into sight on opposite sides of the road. He drives slowly past, noting his rental car still parked where he left it, then carries on down the road a little more before pulling the car off onto a disused logging trail and parking it out of sight of the road. He gets out, scenting the air but finding nothing amiss and no sign that other people have passed this way recently. He heads deeper into the woods, not stopping until he finds a thick copse of trees, old and grown close together with just a small clearing in between.

Quickly he strips naked, enjoying the feel of the cool air blowing across his skin, a wide grin cracking his face as he stretches his whole body, arms shooting skyward, muscles loosening while he regulates his breathing. He turns his mind inward, probing every inch of his body, checking his recent injuries and feeling satisfied that he’s healed enough to do what he’s about to do. He rolls his shoulders, working out a knot at the back of his neck. Once he’s confident that his body is ready, he calls forth the Shift, his mind willing his body into its new form.

As the transformation takes hold, he’s dimly aware of his cock growing hard against his thigh and he relishes the sensation along with all the others coursing through him, lighting his nerve-endings on fire. He can feel his muscles bunching and rippling under his skin and hear his own bones popping as they re-align and then, with a brief flash of both pleasure and pain, his body completes the Shift. He drops to all fours, tongue lolling from his mouth as he huffs out a breath and then tastes the crisp air around him. He gives a vigorous shake, starting at the tip of his wet, black nose and ending with his bushy tail whipping out behind him. The urge to just throw back his head and let loose a joyous howl is overwhelming but he squashes it down and takes stock of his surroundings instead.

With a whole new set of enhanced senses at his disposal now, the forest suddenly becomes a brand new world. There is a cacophony of sounds bombarding him from a myriad of woodland creatures just going about their day. The sound of a car passing on the distant road sounds as close to him as if he was standing beside it and he freezes until it roars into the distance, then shakes his head, huffing out another hot breath as he mentally turns down the volume on all the unimportant things happening around him.

Setting off in the direction of the motel, Norman revels in the feel of his wolf form, the untapped power lying dormant in his muscles is like an aphrodisiac. It’s been so many years now that he doesn’t even need a period of adjustment anymore, his brain adapts to working his new body in an instant, his equilibrium unaffected by the change in his center of gravity as he passes almost silently among the trees. He slowly pushes his body from an easy lope to a fast run, ready to slow down if anything starts to hurt but there’s not so much as a twinge as he taps into his unreleased power.

He knows he has to be cautious, running in the woods during the day is infinitely more dangerous than under cover of darkness. At night there’s always the chance, that if a human spots him, he’ll be dismissed as a large dog but during the day, there’s no mistaking his lineage and both his disproportionate size and the fact that he’s in an area devoid of a natural wolf population will have hunters on his ass so fast it’ll make his head spin. Not to mention what Sean will do to him if he gets himself spotted by some hapless hiker with a cellphone, wandering around the woods.

So, with his senses on high alert, he approaches the back of the bar cautiously, nose wrinkling as he picks up the individual scents of each of the Strays who jumped him that night. The tang of his own human blood soaked into the earth is still sharp to his nose and his lips pull back from his teeth in a snarl of disgust and anger. He paces the area back and forth, committing each of their scents to memory, growling softly in the back of his throat before circling around the building, keeping to the early morning shadows. The place is locked up tight until later in the day and he trots quickly past the front door searching for any new trails, feeling exposed every second he’s there.

He doesn’t find anything newer than the night they were all there together and, after a hurried run across the street, he checks briefly around the motel lot only to find the Strays never even passed that way. Knowing he’s pushing his luck, he disappears back into the woods behind the motel, feeling a little more at ease once he’s back under cover of the trees. He scouts the entire area for a good hour but, although he crosses their trails numerous times, there is nothing fresh. The most recent trail and the strongest, meaning they’d used it frequently during their stay, leads him to a small cabin, set back from the highway. Their stink permeates the place still but its deserted now, closed up tight for the winter season and he feels both relieved and frustrated that they’re gone.

He would have liked to have learned more about them if he could have. Not that he would have attempted to take them on alone, Sean would skin him himself if he’d tried that, but maybe he could have gotten one of them alone, away from the pack and gotten some information that way. But the further they are from Lucia, he thinks, the better. It’s the first time he’s consciously thought of her since leaving the store and he turns his nose to the sky, checking the sun’s position. He’s been gone longer than he intended and suddenly he feels overcome with the need to get back to her again, to smell her sweet scent and be close to her. The need controls his body and he turns tail in an instant, racing back the way he came, ears flat against his skull, fur rippling in his slipstream, tongue out and tail streaming behind him. He barely makes a sound as he leaps and dodges his way through the undergrowth but he’s aware of all manner of creatures skittering out of his path and disappearing into whatever refuge they can find.

He skids to a halt in the clearing where he left his clothes, paws digging up divots of soft earth as he puts the brakes on, sides heaving. He readies his body for the Shift back to his human form, getting his breathing under control. With that brief surge of pleasure and pain, he is once again standing naked in the woods, goose-bumps forming on his exposed, sweat-slicked skin. Hurriedly, he pulls on his clothes and then jogs back to the car, letting his body cool down after his workout. Unlocking the car and getting in, he pulls the bottle of water from the grocery bag on the front seat and downs the whole thing before setting off back to Lucia’s cabin.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

When he arrives at the house, he goes into the kitchen, setting down the paper bag on the table. Through the window, he can see Beegle chasing happily about the yard, tail helicoptering out behind him. The door leading to the studio is open and he can faintly hear music drifting along the hallway. He unloads the bag and turns on the coffee maker, taking the mugs from the drying rack by the sink, just as Lucia comes into the kitchen, wiping her paint-smeared hands on an equally paint-smeared rag.

_“Hi Honey, I’m home,”_ he says with a smirk.

_“So I see,”_ she replies, grinning back at him. She has yellow paint smeared across her chin and tiny streaks of red in her hair where’s she’s pinned it messily up on her head but there’s a spark in her eyes that’s lighting up the whole room for him.

_“Good run?”_ she asks.

_“Absolutely,”_ he breathes back, catching a sudden whiff of her scent that makes his mouth moisten.

_“Everything in good working order?”_ She looks him up and down.

_“Yeah, everything is feeling fine,”_ he replies with a laugh, fumbling with the filter for the coffee machine.

_“Here, let me do that,”_ she says, taking it out of his hands, her skin sliding over his, causing his whole body to cry out with the need to have her touch him again.

_“Thanks, those things always get the best of me. This is why I have a teenager in my house.”_

He watches her expertly get the filter installed and lean over to fill the water jug. The urge to just push her against the sink and take her right there is drowning his mind and he clenches his hands into tight fists at his sides.

_“I think I’ll go take a quick shower,”_ he mumbles, his voice sounding hoarse to his own ears.

_“You really should!”_ she replies, teasingly.

_“Hey, you’re not so clean there yourself, lady,”_ he says, reaching for a towel from the rack and wetting it under the tap before reaching out to gently clean the paint from her chin, tilting her head up with the fingers of his other hand. He feels her tremble slightly under his touch, their eyes meeting, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. He lingers in her personal space for just a fraction too long before she pushes softly against his stomach, backing him away from her.

_“Go. Shower. Now.”_

_“Okay, okay, I’m going,”_ he laughs, tossing the paint stained towel into the sink and turning away.

_“Norman?”_

_“Yes?”_ he asks, turning back to her. There’s something in her eyes he can’t read.

_“When you’re done, why don’t you bring me a cup of coffee in the studio?”_ she says with an inviting smile.

_“You got it,”_ he answers, returning her smile with one of his own.

He showers as fast as he can, forgoing his usual morning release even though his cock stands to attention almost the moment the water hits it. He turns the faucet to cold for a minute before he exits, letting the frigid water wash over him, dampening his ardor. Barely drying himself with the towel, he slips into clean jeans and one of his favorite t-shirts, the soft material sticking slightly to his damp skin. Padding back into the kitchen in his bare feet, he finds that the coffee maker is already half full, so he pours two mugs out, adding milk and sugar to Lucia’s, the way he knows she likes it.

Walking carefully down the short hallway, he finds the studio door open, Lucia standing at her easel, one brush in her hand and another clamped between her teeth. The easel is angled away from the door so he can’t see what she’s working on. He carries the coffees over to the sofa under the window, setting them down on the table at its side.

_“Thanks,”_ Lucia mutters around the brush between her lips.

Norman stands there, suddenly feeling awkward, wanting so much to go look at her art hanging from the walls but needing to know its okay with her first.

_“May I?”_ he asks, indicating the nearest painting with his head.

She nods in response and he starts walking the room, looking at everything on display. The canvasses that had been stacked against the wall are wrapped now except for one small pile of what appear to be watercolors of local scenes. He crouches down to flick through them, recognizing a few of the places he’s seen on his walks with Lucia. They’re beautiful, the delicate brushstrokes capturing the heat of summer and the transition into fall but they seem somehow missing something. There’s nothing uniquely different about them, nothing that screams Lucia at him, although the work is outstanding, they look like something you’d see at any tourist store in any town like this one.

He straightens up, turning his attention to the variety of canvasses lining the walls which he guesses don’t go anywhere. There are both pencil and ink sketches taped hastily to the walls in the empty spaces between the larger paintings and Norman’s eyes try to take in everything at once, the images jumping off the wall at him one after the other. His mind fills with the visual delights before him until he almost feels like he’s stepped sideways into a world that, although it looks identical to ours, is home to an array of creatures like nothing he could have ever imagined. Just like the painting in his room, the majority of her work here represents some twist on the mundane, a reversal of what is universally accepted to be the truth. As he slowly peruses her work, his coffee long forgotten, he’s acutely aware of her eyes tracking his movements around the room, knowing she’s looking for his reactions to her pieces.

He takes his time with each one, savoring the way discovering new art always makes him feel. There are few people in his life who truly, truly understand his love of art in all its forms and to find someone who not only shares that passion but can create such wondrous things as well is making him a little light-headed. By his very nature, he’s drawn to the unusual, the macabre some might say, and her monsters are speaking to him in a way not many artists can. He turns to her, a hundred questions forming on his lips, each of them dying as his eyes catch sight of the three framed posters hanging behind her desk. The blood rushes in his ears as he moves in for a closer look.

The posters are undeniably Lucia’s work but unlike any of her styles he’s seen so far. These seem sleek, glossy, almost over-stylized somehow but it’s the subject matter that’s really what has his interest. Each poster is an enlarged version of a book cover, the titles emblazoned in red and black at the top of each print – ‘Wolf Night’, ‘Day of the Wolf’ and ‘Wolf Love’. He doesn’t even register the author’s name, he’s too busy staring at the depiction of a half man/half beast with long hair, pointed ears and blazing yellow eyes, either alone in the first, looking tortured in the second with an impossibly busty teenager pouting behind him or carrying the same scantily clad teenage girl in the third.

_“That one is my personal favorite, a tale of unrequited, inter-species love across the ages,”_ says Lucia and he starts, not having heard her cross the room to stand beside him. She must see the look of disbelief on his face because she continues on. _“Now, don’t give me that look. These are what paid my mortgage, I’ll have you know.”_

_“I wasn’t judging you,”_ he stammers, trying to regain some kind of control over his reeling mind, _“I was just a little surprised by them is all.”_

Lucia crosses over to the sofa, taking a seat with her legs tucked up under her and he follows her, sitting cross-legged at the other end, his back against the armrest so he can face her.

_“Your work is amazing, Lucia, I mean it. I’m blown away. This world you’ve created with your beasts…”_

_”Monsterskines,”_ she interrupts him, _“that’s my name for them.”_

_“Monsterskines,”_ he repeats the word back to her, liking the way it sounds.

_“I’m thinking about creating a whole new world for them, an urban series, bring them into the city. What do you think?”_

_“I think I can’t wait to see them,”_ he replies, smiling at the way her face lights up at his response. _“So, tell me something… what would you do, Lucia, if_ _one of your creatures came out of the woods at night, teeth glistening, claws bared. Would you be afraid?”_

She thinks for a long time before replying.

_“Honestly, I think I would pee my pants and cry like a little girl,”_ she laughs and he laughs with her. _“But I wouldn’t not believe in it, do you know what I mean? I think it’s arrogant to assume there’s not more to the world than meets the eye.”_

He nods, eyes flicking to the posters behind her desk.

_“And what if it was a vampire or a werewolf, how would you feel then?”_

_“The same. In fact, those are something my brain would probably be more likely to accept if it was standing in front of me, rather than a creature that we’ve never seen before. Vampires and werewolves are so rooted in our culture that it’s sometimes hard to remember that they’re not actually real and living among us.”_

_“That’s true,”_ he replies and then falls silent, contemplating her words.

_“Are you hungry?”_ she asks suddenly, _“because I’m famished. Painting always gives me an appetite.”_

_“Dammit, I forgot I bought pastries,”_ he says, bouncing up off the sofa. _“Stay here, I’ll go get them, I need to re-fill my coffee anyway.”_

He makes the short trip to the kitchen, bringing back a plate laden with sweet-smelling treats which he hands to Lucia before sitting down again, coffee in hand. She takes one and passes him the plate and they eat in silence, Norman’s mind still lost in her art. When she’s done, she stands up, brushing crumbs from the front of her shirt and moves back behind her easel. Norman starts to stand up, thinking he should leave her alone to work.

_“You can stay if you want,”_ she offers, _“keep me company.”_

_“Are you sure?”_

_“Yeah, I’d like you to.”_

He settles back down on the sofa, getting comfortable, as she turns her attention back to her work. He can see she’s a little uncomfortable to start with, so he busies himself, looking through the pile of books on the floor at his feet and, by the time he’s chosen one, she is lost to him, completely engrossed in what she’s doing. He smiles to himself, watching her face as she loses herself in her work, hands flying over the canvass, somehow ending up with as much paint on her as on it. He puts his feet up, stretching out on the sofa, letting his body truly relax, feeling the comfortable pull of the muscles he used during his run. As Lucia works, he alternates between watching her, flicking through the book he picked up but not really reading it, and looking out the huge window to the woods and mountains beyond. For the first time in a really long while he feels completely at ease.

Lucia works for at the canvass for a couple of hours and the more he watches the creativity flowing from every line of her body, the more turned on he’s getting and he’s just wishing he had taken the time to slip underwear on under his jeans, when she steps back from the easel with a sigh and smiles at him.

_“I think I’m done for today,”_ she says, voice low and husky like she just woke up. _“The light’s changing and it’ll be no good soon.”_

Norman gets up from the sofa with every intention of taking a look at what she’s been working on but, before he can reach her, she’s pulled a drop cloth over the front of her work, cutting him off.

_“I don’t get to see?”_ he asks in a petulant voice. He reaches for the corner of the drop cloth and her hand whips out to grab his, stopping its trajectory.

_“Nobody gets to see until it’s done. Don’t be so impatient.”_

He struggles playfully against her grip and she tightens her hold, pulling him away from the canvass and into her personal space. She doesn’t relinquish his hand and he looks down at her, his breath quickening a little as she darts her tongue out to wet her lips. He can feel her pulse thrumming under her skin, sense the changes running through her body at the nearness of him, the scent of her intoxicating him until he wants to let loose with another howl. Still she doesn’t let go of his hand and her cool skin against his is sending darts of pleasure along his nerve-endings. He leans his body just a fraction more into hers and feels her shift closer in response.

_“I have a confession to make,”_ he whispers, _“watching you work this afternoon really turned me on.”_

He watches as her lips part and he can see her pupils dilating slightly, pushing away some of the green that he’s come to love.

_“Then I have a confession too,”_ she replies, matching his low tone. _“When I paint, I’m always aroused. The very act of creating something new is like my own brand of porn.”_

Norman can feel his hardness growing at her words, the thought of her already wet starting an ache inside of him.

_“So what do you usually do to relieve that tension?”_ he asks, raising an eyebrow.

She laughs softly and he feels the sound vibrating throughout his body.

_“Oh, you know, the usual… cold shower, set the washer on spin.”_

_“Sounds lonely,”_ he says and before she can reply, he dips his head, his lips hovering over hers for a second, their breath mingling and then he’s kissing her. His eyes close as his whole body pushes against her, her grip on him slipping as his hands come around her waist and he feels her reaching up to burrow her fingers in his hair, tugging gently against his scalp. Her lips are warm and as soft as he’d imagined, the slightly bitter taste of the coffee still lingering on them. He grunts softly as she parts them, feeling the tip of her tongue dart across his lips as if asking for access. He acquiesces to her demands, opening his mouth slightly and feeling her tongue slip in to flick against his teeth. His hands push up under her shirt, working their way up against her spine as he deepens their kiss, his tongue fighting for dominance over hers, sliding hotly against it, until all he can smell and taste is her.

His fingers track back down her spine, eliciting a small moan from her into his mouth and that’s all it takes, he wants to be inside her right now, he needs to feel her surrounding him more than anything he’s wanted before. He slides his hands down to cup her ass, boosting her up to wrap her legs around him as he carries her to the sofa, sitting down with her straddling him. His fingers fumble for the buttons on her shirt but she bats them away impatiently, sitting back on his lap to pull it off over her head, following it with her bra and he knows then that she wants him as much as he wants her. 

She bends to kiss him again, grinding her hips against his erection and his hands find her breasts, cupping them softly at first, thumbs brushing at her hard nipples, and then squeezing as she gasps into his mouth. He breaks the kiss, wanting to taste her skin, trailing his lips and tongue down her neck, hovering over her pulse point, nipping at her flesh with his teeth, until his mouth closes over her nipple and she lets forth a tiny squeal as he teases it with his tongue and pulls it between his teeth. He works at her breasts until she pushes his head gently back, tipping his chin up to look into his eyes. Her pupils are totally blown now, just the smallest ring of green at their edges and her lips are slightly parted, showing just the smallest hint of her pink tongue. She looks at him for a moment, tugs playfully on his goatee, then slips backwards off his lap to stand in front of him.

He feels bereft when her weight is gone, the release of pressure making his cock ache even more as he watches her un-zipping her jeans and pushing them down to the floor where she steps out of them, standing almost naked before him. He can see the dark thatch of her hair through her pale underwear and the wetness soaking through the thin material makes him salivate. The room is suddenly full of the musky scent of her sex and he pushes up from the sofa in one fluid motion, hands reaching to pull her roughly against him as he licks at her collarbone, her head arching back at his touch. While his teeth graze her shoulder, he feels her hands pulling insistently at his shirt, pushing it up over his chest until he breaks away from her long enough to tear it from his body and throw it to the ground.

Her small, delicate fingers start tracing circles against the lines of his abdomen, working progressively lower until they’re scratching through the hair below his navel. When she reaches the top of his jeans, she deftly pops the button and tugs on his zipper, opening them to reach inside and wrap her fist around him. She pushes away his jeans with her other hand, releasing him enough so that she can stroke his length unhindered, the dried paint rough on her skin causing him to gasp at the sensation. He leans his forehead down against hers, humming slightly in the back of his throat as she works her fingers around him. He can feel the tip of his cock already sticky with pre-cum and when she flips a thumb over it, gliding across his slit, he makes a guttural sound deep in his chest.

His hips are rolling gently into her touch with each stroke and, while he’s tempted to let her continue, his body is still craving the feeling of being inside her. Gently, he guides her hand away from him, pulling his jeans off the rest of the way and hooking his fingers into her panties to slide them down her legs. Completely naked, they stand for a moment, not touching, eyes devouring each other’s bodies and then, to his surprise and delight, Lucia is pushing him back down onto the sofa, following him to straddle his lap once more, her insistent mouth pressing wetly against his. He can feel her juices slicking against his thigh and his hand slides over her mound, his fingers finding their way into her dripping pussy.

She clutches at him, mouth sliding from his in a groan as he pushes his thick fingers deep inside her, her hips bucking against his touch. He rubs his thumb against her swollen clit, feeling it spasm beneath him as she groans again, louder this time. Pulling out, he grabs at her hips, maneuvering her into position so that he can guide his cock into her, pushing hard and fast, feeling her walls open around him until he’s in as far as he can go. For a second they freeze, eyes locking, and then she’s undulating her hips, hands gripping his shoulders for balance, as she rides his cock hard. He thrusts to match her moves, his nails digging into the soft flesh of her ass, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he lets himself go.

All he can feel is her wet heat surrounding him, her pussy pulsing as she tightens around his hardness, all he can smell is her essence and that alone is making him crazy. He studies her face, her eyes half-closed, mouth forming a silent ‘oh’ as she pushes against him. Sweat is slicking her skin, pooling at the base of her neck, and he dips his head to lick at it, the taste of salt sharp against his tongue. He traces her collarbone with his lips, nipping and sucking as he goes, the sound of her increasing moans urging him on until he bares his teeth and bites hard at her shoulder, making her shriek with pleasure, her hand leaving his shoulder to pull hard at his hair. The beast within him stirs at her sound and Norman lets it forth just a little, heightening his senses until he can hear the very blood pumping through her veins, her heart hammering inside her chest as he thrusts into her.

His animal side takes him once more and he bites at her again, this time at the soft skin at the base of her neck and he feels the sensation travel through her body as she tightens around him, her head thrown back, eyes closed, grinding her hips against him before her whole body shudders as her orgasm takes her and he feels her coming around him. Her face is beautiful to him in that moment, filled with such pure, raw emotion as she spirals out of control. With an effort, he keeps himself in check, wanting to savor every second of her release before he joins her. She looks down at him, blinking a few times, arms coming up to wrap around his neck, her hips still rolling slowly against him. He can see the flush covering her sweat-drenched skin, can feel her wetness sliding from her to soak against him and then she smiles at him, a smile so full of contentment that it tugs at something deep in him and he renews his grip on her hips, steadying her as he thrusts up into her as hard and as deep as before.

He buries his face against her chest, her hands tangling in his hair once more and hears her whispering small words of encouragement, urging him to let go, to come hard inside her. The last one is his breaking point and he feels the familiar tug in his stomach as his orgasm unleashes itself, his body going rigid beneath her and a deep growl escaping involuntarily from his lips. He clutches at her, holding her to him as he ejaculates inside her, thrusting until he’s spent and then sliding from her in a rush of mingled fluids. Her hands capture his face and she’s kissing him all over it, giggling sweetly as she does. Controlling his breathing a little, he slides his hands up over hers, laughing with her as he turns her palms over to kiss them, tickling them with his goatee.

She slides off his lap to sit beside him, one leg still hooked over his knees which he reaches out to caress, stroking his fingers softly against her silky flesh. He raises his other arm and she moves under it, resting her head against his shoulder as he places it around her, keeping her close. Her fingers move across his abdomen, reaching up to play with the hair on his chest. He rests his cheek against the top of her head, listening to both their bodies returning to normal, satisfied just to be close to her.

_“Lucia…”_ His voice cracks a little and he tries again, “ _Lucia that was…”_ he trails off not sure how to express what he wants to say to her.

_“Better than the spin cycle,”_ she supplies, with a smile in her voice.

He snorts with laughter, tipping her face up to meet his so he can kiss her once more. The late afternoon sun, streaming through the window, lights up the streaks of red paint in her dark hair and he brushes his fingers softly through it.

_“You need a shower, my little painter. I think there may be more on you than on the canvass.”_

_“There always is,”_ she sighs. _“If there isn’t, then I’m doing something wrong! I’ll take one in a little while. Right now I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”_ She snuggles back against his chest.

_“Me either,”_ he replies, running a finger down her arm and kissing the top of her head.


	7. Chapter 7

Beegle’s strident barking pulls Lucia from the doze she’s fallen into, jerking her to alertness as she tries to shake the fog from her mind. She jumps again as her eyes meet Norman’s, mere inches away, and she gives a small laugh.

 _“Hey there,”_ he says as she slides her leg off his and stands up, wobbling a little as the feeling returns to her limbs.

 _“Hey yourself,”_ she replies, reaching out a hand to him and pulling him from the sofa.

He comes to a stop inches away from her and hesitates, as if he’s unsure of whether he should touch her or not, and Lucia smiles inwardly to herself, charmed by his indecision. She makes the choice for him, slipping forward to rest her hand against his chest, reaching up to pull his head down for a kiss. His hands come instantly around her waist and she presses into him, enjoying the feel of his nakedness against hers, wondering if he’s ready for another round. She’s just about to start teasing his body again when more barking from Beegle causes her to break their kiss with a sigh.

 _“Hold that thought,”_ she says, _“I’ll be right back after I deal with the crazy critter.”_

She stretches up to place a small kiss on his lips and Norman surprises her by pulling her tightly to him and lifting her slightly to kiss her hard in return, before lowering her back down and releasing her.

 _“Didn’t want you to forget me while you were gone,”_ he says with a smirk as Lucia feels a flush spread out across every part of her body and that familiar ache begin between her legs again. She backs away from him, eyes lingering on his bare skin, until she bumps against the studio door, making herself jump and him laugh softly. Blushing furiously, she turns and leaves the room, chiding herself mentally for acting like a fool the minute a hot guy has sex with her. She pads through the darkened house, not worried by her lack of clothing, the nearest neighbors are a mile away, and yanks open the back door to let an exuberant Beegle come flying in. He bounces around her until she fills his food bowl, giving little yips of excitement like he’s never been fed before.

As Lucia is straightening up from placing his bowl on the floor, telling him what a crazy mutt he is, she feels a pair of strong hands land on her hips from behind and she jumps again, whipping around to face Norman, who is covering another grin.

 _“Holy shit, you scared me,”_ she laughs, shoving lightly at his chest. _“You’re like a damn cat, creeping around.”_

 _“I missed you,”_ he replies, pressing her backwards into the kitchen counter and leaning into her body as he bends to nibble at her collarbone. Lucia shivers under his touch, relishing the way her body is responding to his and craving more of him. With a small tug on his hair, she lifts his head from working at her neck and pushes him gently back, taking his hand and leading him from the kitchen to the stairs and then to her bedroom. At the edge of her bed, he spins her, lifting her into his arms and dropping her into the center of the soft comforter before climbing on top of her to cover her body with his. Lucia wraps her arms around him and lets him take the lead as his hands roam her body and his lips trace the curve of her breasts. She’s certainly never been afraid to initiate sex or guide any of the lovers she’s had before, in fact she’s always enjoyed that sensation of being in charge of her own body, but there’s something about Norman that just makes her want to lay back and let him own her, at least in this moment.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The weather for the next couple of days is grey and miserable, the skies constantly threatening rain, the air cool with the distinct scent of the impending fall but Lucia doesn’t care, she’s lost in hour upon hour of painting, conversation and making love at every opportunity. Norman is a skilled and giving lover and she’s sure that he knows it but there’s no arrogance in his manner, never the feeling that he assumes she should be thankful for his attention. Instead he shows an eagerness to learn about her likes and dislikes, quickly memorizing how and where to touch her for maximum effect, finding things that she didn’t even know would turn her on and, in return, Lucia devours his body, exploring it with a passion, wanting to pull every deep moan from his lips as she pleasures him with every trick at her disposal. The house becomes their sexual playground, every room is an arena to be used for their gratification of each other and Lucia knows that she’ll never be able to look at any part of her home again without thinking of him.

Waking early on a Saturday morning, she finds her body bathed in the warm glow of sunlight and slips out of the bed to open the curtains on a glorious day, the last hurrah of summer, she thinks. Turning back to where Norman is still sleeping, face down, in her bed, a soft, purring breath emanating from his mouth, she watches as dust-motes stirred by her movement sparkle around him, the sunlight painting his skin with a golden hue and she hugs her arms around herself, smiling broadly. Giggling, she bounces back onto the bed, giving a light slap to his bare ass as she lands next to him.

 _“Uhnn,”_ he grunts from the pillow, _“sleepin’, Lucia.”_

Undeterred, she leans over him, slowly kissing her way down his spine until she reaches his tailbone where she pauses for a moment before nipping hard at his firm buttock with her teeth. Laughing, she starts to scoot away from him on the bed but, with the lightning-fast reflexes he’s always surprising her with, he grabs her before she can get away and has her flat on her back, her wrists pinned above her head by his hands, her thighs trapped under his weight.

 _“Bully,”_ she says with a smile, wriggling under him as much as his weight will allow, staring up into his eyes, the blue of them a little foggy from sleep, his bed-ruffled hair falling forward to tickle her cheeks as he brings his face close to hers. She squirms and squeals as he runs the flat of his tongue wetly up the side of her neck and over her cheek then burrows his face against the crook of her neck, shaking his head to rub the scruff of his beard over her delicate skin, blowing raspberries and making gruff sounds until she’s breathless with laughter.

 _“I give, I give,”_ she pleads, her chest heaving against his and she can feel the hardness of him pressed against her thigh as he stills his movements and pulls back to look into her eyes once more.

 _“Your teeth are sharp,”_ he tells her gruffly and she smiles up at him, licking her lips.

 _“I didn’t realize you were so delicate,”_ she replies, jiggling her body beneath his until she’s repositioned herself with his cock now pressed against her pussy which she grinds up against him.

Norman groans, eyes closing for a second then flashing back open, all traces of sleep gone from his stare. Lucia’s breathing slows as she inhales the musk of him that tells her she’s turning him on and she feels his grip tighten on her wrists.

 _“Damn, Lucia,”_ he breathes huskily against her skin, lips ghosting across hers, _“you make me crazy.”_

 _“Good”,_ she replies and this time, when she pulls her wrists against his hands he relents and lets her go, moving with her as she flips him onto his back and straddles him. Minutes later she has him firmly inside her and she rides him hard, squeezing around him and throwing disjointed dirty sentences at him until he’s pushing up under her, hands gripping her knees like a vice as he comes, yelling her name and she follows at the sound of his voice.

 _“So, now you’re awake,”_ Lucia says to him a short while later, laying half on top of him, her chin resting on his chest as she strokes idly at the tattoo above his nipple, _“I was trying to tell you that it’s a beautiful day outside, probably the last one we’re going to get this year and I was thinking maybe we could stop at the store for some supplies and then maybe take a drive up into the mountains.”_

 _“I think it sounds like the perfect plan,”_ he replies, softly caressing the base of her spine, _“but first, I think we both need to take a shower unless we want to advertise to the whole world that we’ve been fucking like bunnies.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Lucia drives in her usual hell-for-leather way, with only marginally more regard for the speed limits during the daylight hours, music blasting, windows down and a cigarette clamped firmly between her lips. From the corner of her eye she can see Norman, trying desperately to appear casual, fingers gripping a little at the edge of his seat as she takes another bend at break-neck speed and she smiles around her cigarette. Slamming on the brakes in the dirt lot next to Frank’s store, she stubs out her cigarette in the ashtray and climbs out of the car, stretching a little in the warmth of the day and telling Beegle to stay put in his place on the back seat.

 _“You still owe me for a new windshield,”_ she says, walking around the front of the car to where Norman is unfolding himself from the passenger seat. He grabs her as she gets near, pulling her to him for a deep kiss.

 _“Thank you,”_ he says, releasing her when he’s done.

 _“For what?”_ Lucia asks, puzzled.

 _“For not killing me on the ride here,”_ he throws back over his shoulder as he heads towards the store.

Lucia snorts and follows after him, throwing an elbow into his ribs as he holds open the door for her to enter. Frank’s wife, Dotty, is at the register and she waves to Lucia as she comes in, her eyes sliding over Norman in an appraising glance before returning to the customer she’s waiting on. Lucia heads over to say hello, nudging Norman in the direction of the sandwiches and cold drinks.

 _“Lucy,”_ smiles Dotty warmly, coming around the counter to engulf her in a gigantic hug, _“we’ve barely seen you this summer and now I know why.”_ She raises an eyebrow in Norman’s direction and winks broadly at Lucia. _“Frank said you had a fella from New York staying at your place.”_

Of course he did, thinks Lucia, because everybody knows everything around here but she just smiles back at Dotty and tries to steer the conversation to something other than her love-life for once.

 _“I have the paintings ready for you, whenever Frank wants to stop by and pick them up,”_ she says and it warms her heart to see the look of gratitude and relief wash briefly over Dotty’s face. Every year since she’s been coming here alone, Frank and Dotty have always looked out for her, taking care of the house when the season ends and getting it ready for her at the beginning of the following summer. Their little store has been a part of her life for as long as she can remember and she knows they’ve struggled sometimes, especially now, to keep it running. Each summer she dedicates a chunk of her time and paints a series of watercolors of the area, giving them to Dotty to sell through the off season and the next summer. Her name may not carry a huge amount of weight by itself but she knows Dotty will reinforce the ‘famous’ artist tag with anyone she catches looking at them and most tourists are charmed to buy something by a local celebrity. The first year she brought them in, she had to fight with them to get them to take them, they’re a proud couple, but eventually they gave in, on the agreement that they would split the profit from any sales. Lucia readily agreed and at the start of every summer, Dotty would carefully present her with an itemized account of everything that had sold and hand her a check for her half, a check that Lucia never cashes and Dotty never mentions again.

 _“Thank you, sweetheart,”_ Dotty says, squeezing her hands warmly, just as Norman appears at her elbow, juggling an array of picnic food and dazzling Dotty with one of his rare full-on smiles.

 _“Babe, do we need chocolate?”_ he asks as Lucia takes the packages from his arms and places them on the counter.

 _“Absolutely,”_ she replies and he wanders off again, leaving her smiling after him as Dotty moves behind the register to start ringing up their purchases.

 _“You know who he reminds me of?”_ asks Dotty, loading their things into a paper sack.

 _“Hmm?”_ replies Lucia, not really paying attention as she’s too busy watching Norman deliberate over which candy he wants.

 _“That fella on tv, you know, that show Frank is always watching, the one with all the dead people running around. Nasty business if you ask me but Frank keeps right on watching it. Frank,”_ she raises her voice a little, _“what’s the name of that show you like? Frank? Where is that man, he’s always running off on me?”_

 _“Oh Dotty, you know I don’t really watch tv,”_ answers Lucia, raising an eyebrow as Norman dumps a handful of candy bars onto the counter beside her.

 _“What?”_ he asks, innocently. _“I couldn’t decide!”_

 _“On your account, Lucy?”_ asks Dotty.

 _“No, here, I’ve got this,”_ says Norman before Lucia can answer, pulling his cash from his jeans and handing it over. He hoists the bulging paper sack into his arm, waving away the change that Dotty tries to give him. _“Are we ready to roll?”_

_“I guess so. Thanks, Dotty, I’ll see you soon.”_

_“Okay, and Lucy,”_ Dotty lowers her voice, _“you hang on to that one, he’s a keeper!”_

She gives an exaggerated wink and Lucia blushes, turning to follow Norman who’s waiting for her by the door.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Lucia actually slows her pace for the drive up into the mountains, giving Norman a chance to enjoy the view from his window. She pulls off the road into a designated outlook spot with a short hiking trail attached, the lot almost empty so late in the season, and the two of them take a slow walk, hand in hand, through the woods, Beegle chasing his nose in crazy circles around them, until they reach a small picnic area with a breath-taking view where they spread out and enjoy their meal. The late summer sun is almost too hot but Lucia revels in it, knowing that winter is just around the corner and soon she’ll be a city girl once more, struggling to keep warm on New York’s cold streets.

She watches Norman during the afternoon when she thinks he isn’t looking, marveling at how easily he can slip from the intense, focused man who can entertain her for hours with his thoughts on art, literature and music, to the giant man-child who is currently teasing Beegle with a raggedy chew toy and mocking him when he can’t reach it. She tries desperately to memorize his every feature, the lines on his face, the patch of grey in his beard, the way his ears sometimes poke through his hair, the cute snub of his nose, anything and everything about him so she can carry his memory through winter with her. For a second, a bitter feeling creeps across her mind and she wonders why she couldn’t have met him earlier this summer, why fate deemed to drop him in her lap, literally, for such a brief time. The past few weeks have been amazing and she knows she’s falling for him but she also knows that all too soon they’ll be going their separate ways and her heart aches a little at the thought. Norman’s laughter cuts through her reverie and she pushes away her maudlin thoughts, telling herself that she’s grateful for the time that they did get to spend together, that she wouldn’t have sacrificed a second of it for anything else.

As the afternoon moves on, a static charge starts to build in the air and Lucia knows that there’s a storm coming so she hurries them all back to the car, hating to drive in the rain, hoping to be safely home before it starts. They’re in luck, although they see lightning flashing off in the distance a few times on the drive back, the storm seems to circle around them and never breaks. Norman is quiet the whole way home, staring out the window and Lucia follows suit, a cold knot of foreboding settling in the pit of her stomach.

At the house, they eat a subdued dinner and then Norman asks to borrow Lucia’s phone and excuses himself to go out in the yard. Sighing to herself, Lucia heads into her studio to start packing away the things she wants to take back to the city with her. Through the window, she can see Norman silhouetted against the light from the kitchen, pacing back and forth, his free hand waving wildly as he obviously argues with somebody on the other end of the line. He stops to light a cigarette, turning to avoid the wind, and catches sight of her watching him through the glass. He stares hard in her direction for a moment before something pulls his attention back to his conversation and he turns his back to her, continuing his pacing, his movements reminding Lucia of a caged animal. She turns away from the window, slowly packing her art supplies back into their carry cases, telling herself that she’s being foolish to have fallen so fast for a man she barely knows, a man who she still feels is hiding something from her.

She moves to the unfinished canvas on her easel, flipping over the protective sheet and staring at it, fingers brushing over the surface as she wonders if she’ll ever complete it now. Taking it down, she wraps it carefully, ready to be shipped back to her apartment with everything else. Sitting down at her desk, she opens her laptop, thinking she may as well book the freight company to come on Monday as it seems her time here is done. She’s just checking her confirmation email when she realizes Norman is standing in the doorway, watching her, and she wonders how long he’s been there. His eyes flick to the laptop and then back to her as she closes it and stands up. He holds out a hand to her and she crosses the room to take it, feeling the familiar warmth of his skin fold around hers as he leads her to bed. To her surprise and maybe with a slight twinge of disappointment, he makes no move to seduce her, choosing instead to curl around her in the bed, holding her close to his body and stroking her skin softly until she can feel herself drifting away.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It’s the heat that wakes her, the room stifling and humid even though she opened the windows and left the curtains wide before going to bed. Norman’s skin pressed tightly against her own feels almost feverish and she can feel their bodies sticking together. The sound of rain beating against the sloped roof outside draws her attention and she gently extricates herself from Norman’s hold, crossing to the window to peer out into the darkness. Clouds are skittering across the moon, alternating the landscape in rapid flashes of light and dark, the air is thick with the scent of warm rain, damp earth and Lucia stretches a hand out into the night, the water trickling through her fingers as she smiles to herself.

Stepping back to the bed, shaking the drops from her fingers, she leans over Norman in the darkened room, lightly resting a hand on his shoulder.

_“Norman.”_

_“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”_ He’s awake in an instant, concern in his voice as he reaches for her hand.

 _“I’m fine,”_ she replies, squeezing his fingers reassuringly. _“I need you to come with me.”_

_“Where?”_

_“Here,”_ she reaches for his sweatpants on the nearby chair and hands them to him, _“put these on.”_

_“What’s going on, Lucia?”_

_“Do you trust me?”_ she asks quietly and he doesn’t reply, just slides out of the bed and slips the pants on.

Smiling, she grabs his t-shirt from the chair and pulls it over her head, the warm material strong with his scent, falling softly to her mid-thigh. Slipping her feet into her worn sneakers she sees him following her lead and putting on his boots before standing to face her. Taking his hand, she leads him down the stairs and out of the house, ordering a dejected Beegle to stay put as she closes the door behind them. Within seconds of crossing the backyard the fat drops of rain pouring from the sky have drenched them both, Norman’s t-shirt clinging to Lucia’s body as she walks confidently away from the house, not looking back at him until she reaches her destination a few minutes later.

 _“What are we doing out here,”_ Norman asks finally, a hint of confusion in his tone as she leads him to their picnic spot overlooking the lake and drops his hand, turning to face him.

The warm rain is running in rivulets over his naked torso, his hair plastered to his head and curling slightly around his face, a small frown pulling at his forehead as Lucia steps into his personal space. His frown turns to a look of surprise as she bends her head to lick the water from his collarbone, her hot tongue making a track up the side of his neck, where she nibbles at his jawline before reaching up to whisper in his ear.

_“For as long as I can remember, I’ve always had this fantasy of making love in the rain but I’ve never had someone I wanted to share it with. What do you say, want to make my fantasy a reality?”_

She slides her hands slowly back down his torso, fingers resting lightly against the skin of his stomach as she leans back to look up at his face. His eyes scan her face, lips parted slightly, then he’s moving, hands coming around her waist to lift her onto the edge of the wooden table, body pressing between her thighs as he practically tears his shirt from her body, leaving her naked and gasping before him. Lucia moans as the heat of his skin presses against hers, the rain washing down her flesh as he takes his mouth to her breast, sucking hard at the skin below her nipple then grazing it with his teeth. She grabs at his shoulders, her body signaling it’s arousal with an ache in her pussy, making her clench tight and then let go again.

Norman’s hand slides over the wet surface of her thigh and she moans again as his mouth works down over her stomach, his other hand pushing her gently back to lay flat on the table’s rough surface. Once she’s down, he continues kissing and licking his way down until his mouth finds her clit and she bucks under him as he slides his tongue up and down it, lifting her thighs to open her to him. Lucia feels her fingers tingling and twitching as he pushes his tongue inside her, his wet hair brushing against her thighs, and she arches her back from the table as he pulls her clit between his lips, the prickle of his beard drawing a thin line between pleasure and pain. He sucks hard on it, sending an exquisite sensation throughout her whole pussy and, while she’s groaning loudly now under his touch, he slips two fingers inside her, curling them up and stroking the small bundle of nerves deep inside her. The pressure on her clit and the feel of his thick knuckles pushing inside of her have Lucia panting his name out loud until she explodes around his fingers, pussy pulsing as she forgets how to breath for a second.

He prolongs her release as much as he can, tongue licking softly at her clit as she clutches at his head, feeling the rain trickling down around his mouth, caressing her hot skin until she can’t take it anymore and she has to push him away. He pulls her up to him from the table, kissing her fervently on the mouth, his body shoved hard against hers, rubbing his cock against her pussy through the material of his pants. Lucia sucks at his tongue, reaching down into his pants to wrap her fingers around his cock, feeling it twitch under her touch as she slowly strokes his shaft. Grunting, he pushes away from her, quickly shoving down his pants then moving back between her thighs, pushing the head of his cock into her wetness before grabbing at her hips and thrusting the rest of the way in.

Lucia’s legs wrap automatically around his waist and her hands go to his shoulders as he pushes her against the table until she’s half-laying, half-sitting while he pounds into her, his breath coming in ragged gasps, rainwater flying from his hair to splatter against her skin. With a resounding bang, he slams his palms flat on the table either side of her, using them to leverage himself deeper inside her with each thrust. Lucia finds herself falling back, flat on the table once more, squeezing her pussy hard around his cock, wanting to feel every inch of him as he fills her. Abruptly the moon clears a bank of clouds overhead, their bodies are illuminated in a stark white light and Lucia stares in wonder at Norman, every muscle of his body outlined and shining with the water still covering him, his face a contrast of ecstasy and concentration and, for a brief second as his eyes meet hers, she has that brief illusion again that they’re a golden-yellow color and not the blue that she loves but, when she blinks and looks again, she knows it must just be a trick of the light.

With his eyes firmly on her face, he raises one hand from the table and slips it in between their bodies to tease at her clit as he rolls his hips into her. Lucia’s head bangs back against the table as he pulls her climax from her, nails scratching at the wood surface as she closes her eyes and tightens around him, pussy pulsing rapidly. She hears him growl above her and opens her eyes as he withdraws his cock from her twitching pussy and takes it in his fist, biting his lip and jerking fast until he lets out a strangled cry and ejaculates over her stomach and breasts, his hot cum mixing with the water pooled on her skin. She watches him give a last few tugs until there’s nothing left and thinks that he’s never looked more raw or open than he does at this moment, his mouth open in pleasure, his body totally exposed to her and in that moment, she knows that she loves him and that she’s fooling herself if she thinks otherwise.

Norman bends to retrieve his pants then, with a strong grasp, he pulls her up from the table and into his arms as if she weighed nothing. Lucia wraps her hands around his neck, laughing softly, hooks his t-shirt from the table’s surface and allows herself to be carried, like an old-fashioned damsel in distress – albeit one wearing nothing but her sneakers – back to the house, where Norman insists they take a shower to warm up before he lays her back down in the bed again, resuming his protective position around her damp body and holding her until she falls asleep once more.


	8. Chapter 8

Norman is awake and downstairs before dawn even appears on the horizon, despite the late night adventure he took with Lucia. He feels a smile creep across his face as he thinks of her body under his, of being inside her, so deeply connected with her that all that he knows and feels is her. He’s slumped in one of the plastic chairs on the patio, a blanket from the sofa wrapped around his body like a cocoon as he slowly drags on a cigarette, flexing his bare toes against the wet concrete beneath his feet. The rain has stopped, leaving behind it the definite start of fall, the air cool and crisp around him.

He thinks about Lucia, about her smile, the sound of her laugh, the indignant tone she gets in her voice when he deliberately pushes her buttons on certain subjects, the way her skin tastes in the morning, the small moue of her lips just before she comes and he knows he doesn’t want to be without any of that in his life. He picks miserably at a thread on the blanket, thinking back to the call he made to Sean the previous night. He’d known it wasn’t going to go well, that Sean was already going to be pissed at him for being out of contact for so long and for getting into it with the Strays that brought him to Lucia. But when he’d told him that he’d met someone, somebody who he had the distinct feeling might be his one, and that he wanted to be honest with her, to tell her not only who he is but what he is, Sean had gone off the deep end.

Norman didn’t take any of it personally, he knew Sean well enough to know that he was just venting his frustration at not having been there when Norman was in trouble and his overwhelming duty to protect what they really were from anyone outside their circle. He had questioned Norman long and hard about Lucia, how much did he know about her, how could he be so sure she’s the one in such a short amount of time, did he know how she felt about him, was it mutual? Now, Norman’s mind was abuzz with those and a thousand more questions and he was pissed at both Sean and himself for planting them there, even though he knew every one of them was valid. He growls, deep in the back of his throat, wondering why everything has to be so complicated and knowing that that’s the price he has to pay for the life he has and it will never be anything less.

From inside the house, he hears Lucia stirring, her small feet slapping on the wood floor as she heads to the bathroom and he pushes up out of the chair, tossing his cigarette butt into the unlit fire-pit and pulling the blanket tighter around him as the cool morning air finds its way underneath to tickle at his bare skin. At least I can tell her who I am, he thinks resolutely as he opens the door to the kitchen, that will be a start and, if that doesn’t scare her, we can work on the rest.

He’s just filled the coffee-maker and switched it on when Lucia appears in the kitchen doorway, eyes still blurry with sleep and stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. His eyes travel appreciatively over her naked form as she pads across the kitchen towards him and he opens his blanket to encompass her inside it as she wraps her arms around his waist and snuggles against him.

_“Why you up so early?”_ she mumbles against his chest, covering another yawn.

_“Couldn’t wait to spend another day with you,”_ he tells her, nuzzling her hair.

_“Pfft,”_ is her only response but he feels her arms tighten around his waist a little more.

_“Come on,”_ he says, unwrapping her a little. _“How about I make you some breakfast?”_

_“’kay,”_ Lucia nods and he swings the blanket from around his shoulders to wrap about her instead. He steers her over to one of the kitchen stools and sits her down, kissing the tip of her nose before grabbing the striped chef’s apron from the back of the door and slipping it over his head so he’s all protected up front but with his bare ass hanging out the back. As he ties the strings around his waist, he gives his ass a little shake and is rewarded with a muffled giggle from behind him. Grinning to himself, he starts pulling things from the near empty refrigerator and sets about making omelettes for the pair of them.

They eat in a companionable silence, sitting close together at the table, elbows gently nudging one another. When they’re done, with the dishes cleared and Lucia on her second cup of coffee, Norman takes a deep breath and steels his resolve.

_“Can we talk?”_ he asks quietly.

Lucia’s green eyes regard him over the rim of her coffee mug.

_“Sure,”_ she replies but he hears the slight hint of hesitation in her voice.

_“Good.”_

They look at each other silently for a moment.

_“Maybe I should go find some clothes,”_ says Lucia, slipping from her seat.

_“Right,”_ agrees Norman, _“clothes.”_

With a sudden awkwardness he’s not felt around her before, he follows her up the stairs, actually averting his eyes as she slips the blanket off and pulls on her clothes. Once he’s dressed, he turns to look at her again, thinking that she suddenly seems so fragile to him, although he knows that’s far from the truth. He wonders for a second if he should just walk away, let her get back to her normal life and just try to forget her. Then she smiles at him, concern showing in her eyes and he knows that he has to go forward, has to take the chance that everything might work out because if he doesn’t, he may never be rid of the icy ache that’s gripping his heart right now at the thought of never seeing her again.

_“So…”_ she says, looking up at him from her seat on the bed.

_“Wow, I didn’t think this would be so hard,”_ he laughs, running a hand over his chin, tugging nervously at his goatee. He sits facing her, reaching for her hand, feeling her slender fingers wrap around his.

_“I wish we could have met under better circumstances,”_ he begins, _“but I guess fate was laughing at us. I never expected any of this and I most definitely never dreamed I’d find someone like you. You save my life, Lucia, literally, you trusted me when you had no reason to and I’ll never be able to express how grateful I am for that. You’re an amazing woman, your talent and your heart blow me away and I don’t think I can just give you up, go back to our separate lives and never see each other again. I feel there could be something more to this and I don’t want to regret not trying to find out.”_

She stares at him for what feels like an eternity, her eyes seeming to see into the very soul of him and he wonders if he’s made a mistake, that she just saw the last few weeks as a summer fling, a distraction before getting back to her real life. But then he feels her fingers tighten over his and he hears the slight catch in her voice when she speaks.

_“I’ve been telling myself that I’m crazy, that I shouldn’t be feeling the way I do about you after such a short time but I can’t help myself. I’m not ready to give you up yet either, Norman, I don’t want to.”_

She gives him a smile that lights up her whole face and he basks in it, using it to bolster him for what has to come next.

_“You have no idea how happy that makes me,”_ he says, smiling back at her, _“but I need to be honest with you if we’re going to try and make this work. There are things about me that you don’t know, things that could change the way you’re feeling right now and I can’t, in good conscience, keep them secret from you anymore.”_

He looks at her, heart sinking a little as the smile fades from her face and is replaced with a wary expression.

_“What kind of things?”_ she asks softly.

_“I think it’s better if I show you,”_ he replies, standing up and tugging on her hand. _“Come on.”_

Lucia stands and follows him down the stairs to her studio where he asks her to log into her laptop and then wait while he opens page after page, his life unfolding before him on the screen in a series of interviews, pictures, articles, websites dedicated to him, his imdb page, his AMC page, his twitter and, when he’s done, he tips the lid down, getting up from the seat behind the desk and letting Lucia take his place.

_“This is who I am,”_ he tells her. _“It’s going to be a lot to take in, I know, and I’m sorry but I need you to see me, the real me.”_

He walks to the door, giving her one last look before he leaves the room.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Norman is outside in the yard once more, pacing again and absently throwing a stick for Beegle who tirelessly retrieves it and returns it to him, tail thumping against his hindquarters. Occasionally, Norman’s eyes flick to the studio’s large window but the angle of the sun prevents even his superior eyesight from seeing inside past the glare on the glass. He doesn’t have a watch but his internal clock tells him that Lucia has been holed up in the studio for at least three hours and he’s not sure how much more waiting his nerves can take.

When the back door opens suddenly behind him, he nearly jumps out of his skin, he’s so lost in his thoughts, and he whips in that direction, heart speeding up a little as he sees Lucia regarding him from the doorway. He doesn’t get a chance to speak before she comes bounding across the yard at him and for a second he braces himself, convinced that she’s going to strike him as she pauses in front of him, her hand raised in the air. Instead, she takes his face gently between her palms, the soft ball of her thumb stroking feather-light against the smooth skin under his eye.

_“Oh, your poor face,”_ she murmurs, voice barely above a whisper and he can see tears standing out in her eyes. _“You almost died.”_

_“I’m fine,”_ he replies, covering her hands with his and pressing them to his cheeks. _“See, alive and kicking.”_

Lucia smiles wanly at him.

_“I can’t believe I almost lost you before I even met you,”_ she tells him and he tries to wrap his head around her logic.

_“Wait, out of everything you just saw, this is the one thing that’s bothering you? A stupid accident I had a lifetime ago?”_ He slides her hands down from his face, not letting them go and gratified when she doesn’t take them away.

_“What do you want me to say? That I’m awed by the fact that you’re famous, that I’m suddenly star-struck and I’m going to call all my friends and tell them I slept with a celebrity? You told me that you wanted me to see the real you, well I’ve already seen him, he’s the man that’s been sharing my life and my bed for the past few weeks, the man who cried telling me about the birth of his son, the man who would follow me trustingly out into the night just because I asked him to, the man who would step into a bar fight to protect a girl he doesn’t even know,”_ Lucia’s voice is strong and she doesn’t break his eye contact, taking her hands from his and clenching them in the material of his t-shirt, pushing against him. _“The man who stubbed his toe on the bed the other night and acted like it was the end of the world, that’s the real you. This other you, the actor you, well that’s just somebody I haven’t met yet and I’m sure he comes with his own set of challenges but he’s still you, he’s still my Norman who loves his cat and likes to pull my hair when we’re making love. Why would knowing you have yet another facet to your personality change the way I feel about you? There must be a million other things about you I don’t know yet and you don’t know about me. That’s the whole point of the journey, isn’t it, to discover all the parts that make the whole?”_

Norman regards her for a minute, digesting her words, a slow smile creeping across his face before he takes her in his arms and kisses her softly and slowly, feeling her melt against him, her arms wrapping his waist tightly.

_“I have to warn you,”_ he says, parting his lips from hers and resting his forehead against her, _“it’s not going to be easy, dating me, my private life is never really private and there’s only so much I can do to keep you protected from everything that comes along with what I do.”_

_“You don’t need to protect me, I’m not naïve, I think I have a pretty good idea what I’m getting myself into and it doesn’t matter. I want to see where this leads and if I have to share part of you with the world then so be it. I think I can deal with the lack of privacy, the obsessed fans and your crazy schedule as long as I know you’re in it with me.”_

_“All the way, baby, all the way.”_

Lucia pulls back to look up at him, a mischievous glint sparking in her eyes.

_“So, how do you want to spend our last day here?”_ she asks with a grin, sliding her hands down to squeeze his butt.

Norman laughs, pulling her into a hug and then releasing her.

_“Let’s go inside, I’m sure we can think of something,”_ he replies.

As she takes his hand and he follows her back into the house his sense of relief is momentarily shadowed by a dark cloud as he thinks of the next conversation he’s going to have to have with her about the ‘real him’ but he shakes it off, telling himself that he’s jumping the gun and that day may never come. Closing the door behind them, he pushes his thoughts aside and concentrates on enjoying the last few hours of freedom that he has with her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

They spend the whole day in bed together, enjoying each other’s company, making love slowly each time the urge takes them, talking for long periods in between, Lucia questioning him endlessly about this new life that he’s revealed to her. As the night wears on, Norman feels another urge calling to him, in his blood and his bones and he knows he can’t leave without one last run in the woods. With Lucia sleeping deeply at his side, he slips soundlessly from the bed and creeps down the stairs, pulling on his sweatpants before heading to the back door. He quiets an enquiring Beegle with a few strokes to his head, then steals out into the still night, the chill air caressing his feverish skin like an old lover. He stretches his body skyward, arms reaching above his head as he feels his bones popping and moving under his skin in anticipation of the Shift. He checks the sky, gratified to see the moon is mostly hidden by clouds, then sets off at a swift jog into the darkness.

In no time at all, he reaches the picnic place by the lake and quickly strips off his pants, his thoughts filled with Lucia’s naked body, laying open before him on the table, as he wills his body into its other shape, the last snap of bone sending an almost orgasmic shudder through him. He sits back on his haunches for a moment, nose flaring wildly as he picks up her scent from the air, still strong and as intoxicating to him as when it was fresh. He can feel his skin twitching beneath his thick fur and whines sharply in his throat before standing and shaking himself from nose to tail. With a huff of breath, he sets out onto the trail around the lake, veering off among the cover of the trees, thinking that one circuit around its edge should be enough of a run.

A cool wind off the lake ruffles his fur as he lopes silently among the trees and he can smell the death of summer as easily as he can feel the earth changing beneath his paws, nature preparing itself for the onslaught that’s to come. He pauses half-way through his journey to look out over the water, watching the small swells made by the increasing wind and wondering how long it will be before he gets to just let loose again. Lucia was right when she said he had a crazy schedule, which is why he always makes sure that, at least once a year, he can get away for a few weeks, someplace like this and just let himself be wild. He loves living in the city and he loves his work more than anything, for all the opportunities it’s opened up to him, but it makes this part of his life so much harder. Contrary to what’s been portrayed in the movies, he can’t exactly run around Central Park in this form, although there are a few areas of the city that can be utilized if the urge becomes too strong in him but the danger is magnified to an extreme degree if he risks that.

But this life was his choice, it wasn’t forced upon him, he’s not cursed by it, it was offered to him and he grabbed it with both hands. He’s never regretted his decision for a second, not even now, when he thinks he might be falling in love and that scares the crap out of him. The women he’s been with in his past have never made him feel like this, even when he thought he was in love with them, and that both terrifies and exhilarates him. Sean’s always told him he’d know when he’d found his mate, there would be no question in his mind, and Norman had always nodded and agreed with him, secretly thinking that it was just another of Sean’s bullshit lines he likes to use, making himself sound the authority on their situation, even though Norman knows that Sean knew about as much as he did when he first discovered what he was.

Although he knows there’s truth in his words about how, when he finds his mate, she’s his for life, there’ll only be one person for him until he dies and once he finds her, that’s it, all other women are off the menu. If she leaves him, if she can’t be with him, then he’s doomed to leading his life alone. Norman thinks about Sean’s mate, a little flare of jealousy surging as it always does, about how she was the one who pursued him, seduced him until she owned him and then, when she found out his true nature, embraced it and insisted on him changing her too, declaring that she could never live without him so he may as well make it permanent. Like so many other things in Sean’s life, it seemed to Norman that fate smiled on him when it handed him this woman, not that he begrudged him his happiness for an instant, he just always knew that things would never be that easy for him where love was concerned.

He’s sitting so still, lost in his musings that, when a rustling in the undergrowth up ahead deposits a fat rabbit onto the path, it doesn’t even acknowledge him. Tracking its movements with only his eyes, he scents the air, knowing that he’s downwind of it and knowing that he could take it out before it would even know he was there. But where would the fun in that be, he thinks to himself, giving a low growl into the darkness and watching the rabbit freeze in its tracks, its ears swiveling towards the sound. With a snap of his jaws, he launches himself forward and the rabbit bolts like lightning from its position, taking off among the trees with him in hot pursuit. He chases it mercilessly, mouth open in a canine grin as he lets it give him a workout, knowing he could easily end it at any second but enjoying the thrill of the hunt. Finally, he gives in and, with a final pounce, he scoops the rabbit up into his jaws, instantly breaking its neck and dropping it to the ground where he holds it steady with one paw while he tears it open with his teeth and quickly eats it, savoring the hot rush of blood down his throat and the satisfying crunch of bones between his teeth.

While he eats, the woods become still around him, as if the very trees are holding their breath so as not to attract the attention of the predator that’s found its way among them. With a final swipe of his long, pink tongue around his muzzle, Norman moves on, the small creature’s life blood invigorating him, until he’s running at full speed across the earth, pushing his wolf body to its limits, a new urge driving him back to the house and Lucia. He doesn’t even think to stop and retrieve his sweatpants, just brings forth the Shift in the shadow of the house, barely assuming his human form before he enters the kitchen and closes the door behind him. Beegle is on his feet in an instant, hackles raised, lips pulled back from his teeth, a low growl emanating in his chest and Norman can see the confusion present in the dog’s eyes. He answers him with a short growl of his own and a flash of his eyes which causes Beegle to back down, rolling on his back and showing his subservience to his new pack leader.

_“Good boy,”_ whispers Norman, bending briefly to scratch at Beegle’s stomach before shutting him in the kitchen and bounding up the stairs, two at a time.

Lucia is still sleeping exactly as he left her, laying half-turned on her side, one knee drawn up towards her stomach and one hand tucked under her pillow, the comforter pushed down almost to her feet. The room is still seeped in the heady scent of their love-making from earlier and Norman utters a small whine, feeling himself already grown as hard as stone, crossing the room to roughly pull the comforter away from the rest of her body before climbing the bed to cover her body with his. She stirs under him as he licks and kisses his way up her spine, moving her hair aside to graze the back of her neck with his teeth.

_“Norman?”_ she asks, voice thick with sleep and his arousal grows at the sound of her voice. He nips at her skin, wanting to take her right now but knowing he needs to hold back a little.

_“Shh, baby, everything’s fine,”_ he whispers against her ear, sliding one of his hands along the curve of her waist and down across her stomach. She moans deeply into the pillow as his fingers dig in against her sex and he knows he’s being rougher than he probably should be but he can’t help himself. She surprises him by turning slightly under him, her eyes glittering in the darkness, her mouth seeking his in a punishing kiss that has him rutting against her, his cock leaking hard against the soft flesh of her thigh. He briefly wonders if she can taste the blood still on his tongue but she doesn't pull away, doesn't stop kissing him with everything she has. He rubs hard at her clit, enthralled by the way it grows under his touch, how her body responds to him instantly, her wetness coming out to coat his fingertips, her breath heaving in her chest, the blood pounding in her veins as he tears his mouth from hers, moving behind her to pull her body up onto all fours in front of him.

He doesn’t even pause, barely giving her time to get her balance before he enters her, his hands tight on her hips as he starts fucking her hard, the tightness of her pussy around him sending him into a frenzy. He leans over her back, one hand going under her to squeeze tightly at first one and then the other breast, tweaking her nipples hard until she’s cursing his name. He can smell his own scent, the animal musk pouring from him to cover her body as he sweats against her, marking her, owning her, making her his alone. She’s pushing back against him, body straining with every punishing thrust that he makes into her and he slides his hand up from her breast, wrapping it loosely around her throat, squeezing slightly as he lets the beast within him come forward a little and he nips hard at her shoulder with his teeth.

Lucia is panting hard beneath his onslaught, her body shuddering around him but he doesn’t slow, doesn’t pull back from the almost brutal way he’s fucking her, not even when he feels her coming, her pussy pulsing around his cock as she cries out his name and jerks under him. His other arm wraps around her waist, his strength supporting her as she gasps and moans, her pussy growing even slicker as he keeps pounding into her. As her body pulls off from its high, he loosens his grip on her waist, slipping his hand down over her abdomen and pushing it into her wetness to stroke against her sensitive clit, wanting nothing more now than to make her come again, to pull that cry from her lips once more. She whimpers a little under him but when he starts to remove his hand, thinking maybe he’s pushing her too much, she grabs it with her own, pushing it back in against her before letting go to grab at the rumpled sheets beneath her, scrunching them in her fist as she begs him not to stop.

This time when she comes, he lets himself go too, licking and sucking at the flesh of her back, his fingers leaving her throat to bury in her hair, tugging it as he shoots his load into her, shouting her name over and over until he feels her collapsing under him and he slips from her, rolling onto his back beside her heaving form. As he pulls himself back under control, he listens to her next to him, her breath coming raggedly from her throat sounding raspy to his ears, her blood racing around her body, her heart trip-hammering in her chest and he raises himself up to look at her, one hand resting gently against her rapidly rising and falling stomach.

_“Lucia,”_ he murmurs, mind suddenly fearful that he may have hurt her, that he was too rough in his passion. She rolls her head to look at him, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip as she tries to catch her breath and it hurts him to look at her.

_“I’m sorry,”_ he whispers, his heart aching.

_“Sorry?”_ she asks trying to control her breathing, the confusion rife in her voice. _“Sorry for what? For waking me up in the middle of the night to fuck me hard enough that I think I saw stars because you had to have me right then and there? Is that what you’re sorry for?”_

He nods miserably, startled when she lets out a wild laugh, pushing herself up on the bed and knocking him back down to straddle him, her wet center sliding against his thigh, sending another jolt to his cock that he tries to ignore. Her hair is damp around her face and in the dim light seeping through the curtains, he can see the sheen of sweat coating her skin and smell the heady mix of his scent on her body as she looks down at him.

_“I think you need to learn that I am not the delicate flower you seem to think I am, Mr. Reedus, and any time you want to wake me up like that, I’m certainly not going to argue with you. If I didn’t want you to fuck me like some kind of beast in the middle of the night, you’d soon know about it, believe me. Are we clear?”_

He nods again, unable to stop the smile creeping across his face as he inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, adding one more thing to the list of things he still has to learn about her.

_“Good,”_ she continues. _“Now, move your sexy ass over so I can pass out please.”_

He laughs as she slips off of him, shuffling his body across to make room for her beside him, pulling the comforter back up to cover her cooling skin, the weight of her body molding itself to his, her arm coming up over his chest to rest with her hand over his heart. He covers it with his own, wrapping his other arm tight around her back, keeping her close to him until he’s sure she’s asleep and only then letting himself drift off as well.

 


	9. Chapter 9

_“Good morning, sleepyhead.”_

Lucia grunts, burying her face into the pillow, hating the way Norman always seems to know she’s awake the instant her brain sparks to life. His warm hands are caressing her skin softly and she just knows he’s smiling at her, so she gives up all pretense at sleep and cracks open an eye to look at him.

_“Was I having a really intense dream or did you wake me up in the night and ravish me?”_ she asks him, stretching her aching body a little under the covers.

_“Guilty as charged,”_ he answers with a grin.

_“In that case then, I think it’s only fair that you go make me some coffee,”_ she tells him, nudging him towards the edge of the bed.

_“And what are you going to do?”_ he asks, slipping into a standing position by the bed.

_“I’m going to go run the shower we both so desperately need, if that’s okay with you?”_

_“Deal,”_ he says, heading to the stairs.

Lucia drags herself from the bed, stretching muscles she didn’t even know she had and stops dead, looking at the floor.

_“Norman!”_ she calls and he stops on the stairs to turn and look at her. _“Did you go out last night?”_

He follows her gaze to the rug, a guilty look crossing his face as he takes in the muddy footprints and streaks of wet grass dirtying the surface.

_“Yeah, I woke up feeling a little.. ahh.. frustrated so I figured I’d go outside and try to cool off for a while,”_ he says, watching her pull back the comforter to reveal even more mud streaked on the sheets.

Lucia regards him, standing with one hand on her hip.

_“As I recall that didn’t help much,”_ she tosses over her shoulder as she heads into the bathroom.

Norman joins her a few minutes later, standing close to her to let the hot water wash over both of them, tipping his head back to soak his hair. Lucia hands him the shampoo then watches as he lathers it into his scalp, the fresh scent filling the shower, a combination of water and suds slipping slowly down his perfect torso, causing her to bite her lip. He catches her watching and gives her that lop-sided smile that ignites butterflies in her stomach every time she sees it. Quickly rinsing his hair, he turns her away from him, gently tilting her head to catch the jet of water before massaging shampoo into her hair, his fingers rubbing every inch of her scalp until it’s tingling. As he pulls her back to wash away the bubbles, his body brushes hers and she feels the distinct presence of his erection slide over her thigh. She turns to face him, looking pointedly down at where his cock is wobbling slightly, being pounded by the water from above.

_“Are you kidding me?”_ she asks incredulously.

_“What can I say, babe,”_ he replies, smirking like a teenage boy with his first boner, _“being around you gives little Normie a BIG happy!”_

_“Well, unless little Normie wants to put me in the hospital, he’ll find some other way to amuse himself.”_

Norman looks at her, drawing his face into a fake pout and Lucia tries not to smile, sighing dramatically as she reaches for the bodywash, pouring a handful and rubbing it between her palms but, instead of applying it to her own skin, she reaches out, sliding her fingers deftly around his cock, smearing his length with the slippery soap. He grunts as she wraps her palm tight around him and starts a long, slow stroking up and down his shaft. He leans forward to kiss her, hands sliding up her arms to lock behind her neck, his hips rolling into her grip as she twists her thumb over his tip, making his thighs tremble. Lucia slips her other hand down between them, cupping his balls against her palm and tugging slightly, massaging her fingers over them, feeling the deep groan that starts in his chest vibrate up against her tongue.

She pulls his lip with her teeth, increasing her pace on his cock as she bites her way down over his chin and neck, licking at his collarbone, tasting the tang of his sweat where the water hasn’t washed it away yet. One of his hands slaps out against the wall, the other looping in her wet hair as he starts thrusting into her grip, her fingers pressing tighter around him, squeezing and relaxing while her lips find their way to his ear.

_“Come for me, baby,”_ she whispers, teasing his earlobe with her teeth, _“you look so fucking hot right now. Think about how your cock was pounding into my wet pussy last night, think about how much I fucking enjoyed having you filling me up, about how hard you made me come. That’s it, baby, that’s it, give it to me, I want your hot cum shooting over my skin, I want to watch your face as you let go.”_

Norman grunts wildly, thrashing in her grip, mouth open wide as he ejaculates hard, covering both of them with hot splashes, pushing into her hand until he’s finished.

_“Jesus fucking Christ, Lucia,”_ he mutters, breathlessly, when he’s done, pulling her to him in a tight embrace, nuzzling his lips against her throat. _“I love you.”_

She feels his body stiffen around hers, hears him suck in a breath and hold it as he realizes what he’s said. He pulls back to look at her, eyes betraying a hint of panic as he fumbles to find his words, his tongue tripping over itself in his rush.

_“Shit.. I didn’t mean.. umm.. I didn’t mean that I love you, love you… just that I umm.. you know.. what you just did… shit…”_

Stifling a giggle, Lucia pats him reassuringly on the chest.

_“Calm down, big boy, don’t give yourself an aneurysm. A good hand job can scramble anyone’s brain.”_

She maneuvers herself around him, stepping carefully out of the shower, leaving him under the still-streaming water as she reaches for a towel and wraps herself in it.

_“Dork,”_ she teases as she heads into the bedroom.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The morning is already almost over by the time they dress and have breakfast, both still a little tired from the night before and both subdued by the fact that this is their last day in the cabin. They spend the afternoon packing Lucia’s things into the car, tidying the house and taking a last walk down to the lake with Beegle, quietly holding hands at the water’s edge. As the sun eases its way west, they retreat back to the cabin, Lucia curling herself up on Norman’s lap as they wait for the freight company to come for the rest of her belongings. She kisses him softly, breathing in his familiar scent, wishing she could stay here forever with him, wrapped in their own safe little cocoon, hidden from the world. She doesn’t want to talk about what’s going to happen when they get back to the city, even though he tried to start a conversation with her a few times, her brain doesn’t want to think about the logistics of their new relationship. All she’s willing to agree to is driving him back to the city, taking him to his apartment and then going home to hers. She tells him that she can’t think any further than that, right now, that what will happen, will happen. She has his phone number and address safely stored on her phone and her laptop and he has hers, written in her looping artistic script, tucked into the front pocket of his jeans.

When the freight company has collected her boxes, Lucia overseeing the loading of her paintings with a critical eye and a large tip for the driver, they take one last look around the cabin then lock the door behind them. With Beegle panting happily in the back seat among their bags, Lucia pulls slowly out of the driveway and turns the car in the direction of Frank’s store. The afternoon sun is lowering itself behind the tree-line when they arrive and Dotty is just turning the sign to ‘closed’ inside the door as they park and head up the old wooden steps. She ushers them inside, locking the door behind them.

_“Oh Lucy, I didn’t think you’d be leaving so soon,”_ says Dotty with a sad smile.

_“Dotty, its already three weeks past my normal time,”_ Lucia answers with a small laugh.

_“Well, I know that. I just thought you might have found a reason to stay a little longer,”_ she replies, glancing pointedly at Norman who’s standing with one arm wrapped loosely about Lucia’s waist.

_“I have to get back, Dotty, people are waiting on their commissions. The wolves are howling at the door,”_ she says and she feels Norman flinch beside her.

She’s about to ask if he’s okay when Frank comes through from the back and walks over to them.

_“Lucy, I thought we’d be seeing you today,”_ he says, in complete contradiction to his wife’s point of view.

_“Yes, it’s time to go, unfortunately. I just came by to drop off my keys and say goodbye. The paintings are in the same place as always when you want to go collect them.”_

_“Aye, thanks lass, thinkin’ I’ll stop by tomorrow and get them, maybe get the shutters up before the weather changes too much. Now, woman, don’t go getting’ all emotional,”_ he adds as Dotty starts to sniffle, pulling Lucia to her in a tight bear hug.

_“I’ll just miss our little Lucy, that’s all,”_ huffs Dotty, wiping her eyes on a crumpled tissue. _“You know I hate the thought of her all alone in the dangerous city.”_

Frank rolls his eyes, shrugging at Norman with a ‘what can you do, she’s my wife’ look on his face.

_“Mr. Reedus, would ya mind if I asked ya a favor?”_ asks Frank suddenly and Lucia’s head whips around to look at him, startled by his use of Norman’s name.

_“Norman, please,”_ replies Norman, _“and of course, anything.”_

_“Norman,”_ says Frank, nodding in a pleased manner, _“would it be okay if I asked you to sign this?”_

Lucia looks at him, her mind spinning, as he reaches behind the battered counter and retrieves a glossy magazine, Norman’s face glaring out from the cover, holding a crossbow raised to his shoulder.

_“No problem”,_ says Norman, grinning from ear to ear as Frank hands him a sharpie and he signs the cover with a flourish.

_“You knew who he was?”_ Lucia asks, finally able to find her words and staring at Frank incredulously.

_“Of course,”_ answers Frank, staring at her with a look of puzzlement on his face. _“You mean you didn’t?”_

Lucia can only shake her head.

_“Oh Lucy, Lucy, Lucy,”_ Frank walks over to wrap her in a bear hug of his own, _“sometimes you’re just too smart for your own good. You need to take your nose out of a book once in a while and join the rest of us in watching some good ol’ dumb tv. No offense,”_ he says, quickly, looking to Norman.

_“None taken,”_ Norman says, raising his palms in the air.

_“That’s a mighty fine show you’ve got there, son,”_ Frank tells him, releasing Lucia to walk over and shake Norman’s hand. _“Keep up the good work.”_

_“Thank you, sir, I’ll do my best.”_

_“And, if you can, watch out for our Lucy when you get back home. She’ll tell you she can take care of herself but don’t you believe a word of it.”_

_“No, sir,”_ Norman laughs, walking back to take Lucia’s hand in his.

They say their final goodbyes, Dotty sniffling into her tissue the whole time but still managing to press a handful of candy bars into Norman’s hand despite his protests, and then they’re outside again, climbing into the car and waving from the windows, Lucia trying not to cry but failing miserably, large hot tears splashing on her cheeks as she pulls onto the main road.

_“Aw, babe,”_ says Norman, reaching over and cupping the back of her neck, stroking her skin with his thumb.

_“I’m fine,”_ she tells him, getting herself under control and wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. _“Every damn year, it’s the same routine and I always tell myself I’m not going to cry and every damn year, I pull out of here blubbering like a baby.”_

_“They’re your family, sweetheart, of course you’re going to be sad. It doesn’t matter that they’re not your blood, they still belong to your heart.”_

Lucia turns to look at him, smiling a little, realizing she’s becoming less and less surprised when he manages to know exactly how she’s feeling but not being any less awed by it.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

They drive for a few hours, the evening sky soon darkening to a cloudy night, Lucia maintaining an even speed that’s not likely to get them into any trouble. Norman tries to make small talk a few times and fiddles with the radio but eventually gives up and they fall into a heavy silence. Lucia feels bad, her heart growing heavier with every mile closer to the city they get, wanting to talk to him, to tell him how she feels but she holds back, desperate not be seen as clingy and a little scared of just how intensely she’s feeling for him right now. She sneaks sideways glances at him, sitting like stone in the seat beside her, knee drawn up against the dash, his forehead pressed to the glass of his window and she wants to reach out to him, frightened that she’s pushing him away, making him think that she’s not interested.

They’re still a couple of hours from home when she can’t stand it any longer and, seeing a sign up ahead for a place to eat, she pulls off the highway and into the darkness of tree-lined back roads, finding her way to a brightly-lit restaurant set back from the road. She parks the car, the silence inside even more oppressive once the engine stops.

_“Hungry?”_ she asks him, forcing a smile that she’s not feeling, her stomach tying in uncomfortable knots.

_“Sure,”_ he replies, not looking her way but opening his door to get out, stretching his body after being in the confines of the car for so long.

_“Let me just take care of Beegle,”_ Lucia tells him, opening the back door for the dog to hop out and go bounding into the nearby trees. She follows him partway, keeping a watchful eye so that he doesn’t stray too far and Norman leans against the hood of the car, one ankle crossed over the other, and lights a cigarette, the brief flare of the flame illuminating his face as he looks in her direction.

Lucia lets Beegle roam for a good fifteen minutes, silently sharing Norman’s cigarette, before she calls him back to the car and he comes running, tail thumping as he sniffs first at Norman and then at her before he hops back into the car and lays down again on the back seat. She closes the door on him, not bothering to lock it, knowing Beegle will defend their belongings to the ends of his abilities. Norman is already half way to the restaurant door and Lucia runs to catch up with him, grabbing at his hand before he can go inside, stopping him in his tracks.

_“Wait,”_ she says, tugging him back towards her and leading him forcefully away from the building, _“I need to talk to you.”_

_“We can’t talk inside?”_ he asks but he doesn’t stop her as she finds a path in among the trees surrounding the parking lot, walking a short distance until they’re out of sight of the lot and the only noise is the sound of muffled traffic passing on the nearby highway. She stops in a small clearing, dropping his hand and turning to face him, wishing she could see him better in the dim light but feeling strangely comforted by the fact that he can’t see her either. She takes a deep breath and exhales slowly, hoping she’s not about to make a mistake.

_“I love you,”_ she suddenly blurts out, _“and I know that’s crazy and ridiculous and you probably think I’m insane but I do. I don’t care whether I’ve only known you a month or if I’d known you all my life, I know how I feel and I know with every fiber of my being that I don’t want you to walk out of my life tonight without that information.”_

The silence that rushes in when her words end sounds deafening to Lucia’s ears, the thump of her rapid pulse in her neck echoing in her ears as he stands motionless before her.

_“I don’t think you’re insane,”_ comes his low, deep reply and Lucia’s heart soars.

She crosses the two steps between them, barreling into him and forcing him back against the tree behind him.

_“I love you,”_ she repeats, hands splayed against his chest, feeling his heart thudding behind his breastbone. She doesn’t even need him to say it back, she’s never been one to hang her feelings on that sentence coming from her partners’ mouths, but she desperately needs him to know the truth in her words. Fisting her hands into the front of his shirt, she pulls him to her, angling her head up to take his mouth with a brutal kiss, her teeth pulling at his lip before she sucks it hard and then licks her way inside his mouth.

Norman’s hands fly to her hips, banging her body against him as he struggles for dominance over her lips, hissing into her mouth when her deft fingers reach for his zipper and her hand thrusts inside his jeans, grabbing roughly at his cock until she has it in her grip. Lucia pulls off from kissing him, smiling widely as she feels him growing hard under her insistent touch. She leans her face in against his neck, inhaling the raw scent of him, turning her head to nibble her teeth along the sensitive spot beneath his jaw, licking his skin with broad strokes of her tongue, working her way down into the ‘v’ of his button-up shirt. With her free hand, she pops each button, increasing the pressure on his cock when he raises a hand to protest, making him moan softly under his breath. Her lips follow the lines of his ribs, kissing and sucking at his hot skin, reaching back up to graze over his sensitive nipples with her teeth before kissing her way back down over the small swell of his stomach.

When she reaches the deep ‘V’ of his hipbone, she sucks hard, head bent, her hair swinging in her eyes until he reaches out a hand and rakes it back from her face with his fingers. Lucia smiles up at him, his face clearer now as her eyes are adjusting to the light, then drops to her knees, leaves and small twigs crackling against her jeans, as she quickly frees his cock and wraps her hand around the base. With his eyes on her, she licks her lips and spits hard in the palm of her other hand, gripping it around his shaft and starting a slow stroke up and down, tipping her head to casually graze her mouth along his length. At the top of an upwards move, she pauses, using her hand to guide the tip of his cock over the outline of her wet lips, licking them once more before taking just the head into her mouth, swirling her tongue around it.

Norman’s hand tightens in her hair and Lucia glances up at him, lips still sucking gently at his tip, and sees that his other hand is balled against his mouth to somewhat muffle the small whimpers she can hear coming from his vocal chords. Smiling wickedly around him, she lowers both her hand and her mouth, taking him in as far as she can and then working back up, repeating the move a few times until she can feel his thighs starting to quiver against her forearms. Still gripping him tight, she removes her mouth, hearing him groan into his knuckles above her, catching her breath for a moment as she works him with her hand and then returning her mouth to lick him from bottom to top, over and over, paying special attention to the small bundle of nerves just below his head, sucking and kissing at that spot until he’s literally shaking beneath her touch.

She uses her tongue to swipe the little pearls of pre-cum from his slit before taking him whole in her mouth again, hollowing her cheeks around him as she increases her suction, bobbing her head faster and faster, his hips thrusting to her face. She can feel the changes in him as he’s about to come, she’s learning the way his body has little tells, even the way the smell of him changes and she readies herself, humming a little in encouragement around his cock, her free hand slipping down to tug gently on his balls. With a muffled sound from above that could be either her name of a curse, maybe both, he ejaculates into her mouth, clutching at her head as she swallows rapidly around him, taking every drop of him until he’s spent. He crashes back against the tree with a hollow thud and Lucia pulls gently off him, wiping the corners of her mouth, before carefully tucking him back inside his jeans. She doesn’t get a chance to do them up as he slides down the tree trunk, coming to rest, legs splayed, in front of her and he pulls her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her.

Lucia can feel the heat intensified across his bare torso where she’s pressed against him and fleetingly wonders if his elevated body temperature is a sign of something serious he should be looking into. His hands find her face, tilting it to his so he can look into her eyes and, incredibly softly, he kisses her, his lips just barely ghosting over hers, his tongue darting out briefly to taste hers, a quiet moan emanating from his throat as he does so. He plants a kiss against her forehead and then tucks her back in underneath his chin, arms around her as he rests his head on hers.

She’s not sure how long they sit like that and she doesn’t care, the selfish part of her craving every second of his company, but finally he eases her up off of him and stands, holding out a hand to pull her from the cold ground. He zips his fly and re-buttons his shirt, grinning at her the whole time.

_“What?”_ she asks.

_“You’re a hot mess,”_ he replies with a soft laugh, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear and brush some of the debris from her clothing.

Lucia chuckles, looking down at herself, she can only imagine what her hair looks like from the way he was tugging on it.

_“Come on,”_ he says, taking her hand. _“You go wait in the car and I’ll run in and get us something to eat, okay?”_

Lucia nods her agreement and he leads the way back to the car, waiting in the cover of the trees for a moment until somebody else leaves and then opening the passenger door for her.

_“I thought maybe I’d drive the rest of the way,”_ he tells her when she gives him a questioning look.

Lucia shrugs, she’s actually more than fine with it, she won’t admit it but she hates driving in the city, it makes her incredibly nervous and once she’s home for the winter she tends to take public transport everywhere, locking her car away until the following summer. Just as she’s about to slip into the seat, Norman grabs her arm, pulling her close to him as he speaks quietly in her ear.

_“I want to say I love you too,”_ he says, _“but I don’t want you to think I’m only saying it because you did or because you just gave me what I think was probably the best blow job I’ve ever had, so I’m not going to say it at all.”_

With that, he lets her go and heads into the restaurant leaving her staring at his back, a warm feeling growing in the pit of her stomach.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

With a full stomach and a satisfied feeling surrounding her, Lucia sinks back into the passenger seat, fastening her belt and sighing contentedly as Norman fidgets with adjusting the driver’s seat, complaining good-naturedly about how short she is, and then pulls back out onto the highway. The atmosphere for the rest of their journey is markedly different from the first half, conversation flowing about different places they like to visit in the city, both of them half-singing to random songs that come on the radio and each of them reaching out on occasion to touch the other.

It’s past midnight by the time Norman pulls up in front of his darkened apartment building, the street outside quiet as he unloads his pack onto the pavement and turns to take Lucia into his arms.

_“Are you sure you don’t want to stay here tonight?”_ he asks for the hundredth time, brushing away the strands of hair that the wind is blowing across her face.

_“No, I’d rather go home,”_ she replies, looking up at the imposing building, knowing his apartment is the penthouse way on top. _“It would be too soon, do you know what I mean? If I come in now, we both know that I’m never going to want to leave and neither of us are ready for that yet. I need me to be me and you to be you and we’ll work on the ‘us’ part, okay?”_

Norman gives her one of his fake pouts and she laughs quietly, kissing his lips briefly before pulling out of his embrace and getting back in the car.

_“Get inside before you freeze,”_ she tells him, lowering the window, _“and call me when you’re ready.”_

She smiles as he steps down from the pavement to lean into the car through her window, his hand cupping her head as he kisses her long and hard before backing out again and stepping back.

_“I love you, Norman Reedus,”_ Lucia yells as she puts the car in drive and screeches away, hearing his laughter echo off the buildings behind her.


	10. Chapter 10

The nightmare pulls Norman from his sleep once more, his body drenched in sweat, Lucia’s face swimming in his vision, this time her scream wasn’t silent and the sound echoes around his skull. Instinctively, he reaches out for her, needing to reassure himself that she’s okay, to draw her body close to his, but his hand finds nothing but empty space. Growling in frustration, he flops back down against the pillows, hands coming up to rake through his hair. He stares at the familiar white ceiling above him for a few minutes then throws off the covers and swings his legs over the side. The jeans he was wearing the night before are heaped on the floor next to his discarded pack and he bends over to grasp them, fingers fumbling in the pockets, his heart stuttering until he touches the crisp square of paper Lucia gave him.

He unfolds it, staring at the small details of her life, tracing her writing with his fingertips, his mouth watering as he catches her scent from the paper itself. He looks to the phone beside his bed, scrubbing reflexively at his mouth and chin as he debates calling her. A quick glance at the clock beside the phone makes his decision for him –it’s barely past dawn- if he calls her and wakes her now, she’s going to be seriously pissed at him. The rational part of his brain tells him that she’s fine, that the dream was just a symptom of separation anxiety and that he’s being an idiot.  Huffing out a breath, he heads into the kitchen to make coffee, stopping short in the brightly-lit hallway as he remembers that he’s no longer in the safe haven of Lucia’s home and that making coffee in the nude is no longer an option for him. In the city there are always eyes on him, both in public and in the supposed privacy of his own home, he’s come to learn.

He goes back to his room, pulls on his jeans from the floor, leaving them half undone, and digs under the bed for the bloodied bunny slippers Sean bought him as a gag gift then shuffles back to the kitchen to start his day again. The apartment is spotless, his cleaning service having taken care of it in his absence, but it has that strange feeling of not being his that he always experiences when he’s been away for any period of time. He wanders from room to room, just giving everything a cursory glance before he finds himself standing outside the door to Mingus’ room, a familiar ache settling in his chest as he pushes open the door and steps in. He breathes deep, inhaling his son’s scent, so similar to his own that it scares him sometimes. The room is the chaotic mess you would expect from any teenage boy but it has an air of abandonment about it, as though the room itself is holding its breath, waiting for the return of its occupant to breathe life into it once again.  

Crossing the room to check on Luna in her tank, he’s happy to see she’s looking healthy and it reminds him that he’ll need to go downstairs later to retrieve Eye In The Dark from Mrs. H. Whenever he can’t take the cat with him on a trip, she’s the only person he trusts enough to take care of his precious baby. Mrs. H has been taking care of the both of them since he moved into the building and he knows that it’s her grandson that’s been coming in to take care of Luna as she draws the line at lizards. Leaving the room and closing the door behind him, he tries to push away the heavy feeling that’s holding a corner of his heart hostage, a feeling he knows won’t really go away until Mingus is back home with him. For the hundredth time in the past few months, Norman wonders if he made the right decision, allowing him to spend almost a year living in Europe with his mother, transferring his schooling there until the following spring. He’d let Mingus make the choice for himself when the opportunity was presented to him but he’d be lying if he said there wasn’t a small part of him that was hurt when Mingus had so eagerly agreed to go.

With a weary sigh, he strips off his jeans and steps into the shower, turning the water to an almost scalding temperature and letting it revitalize him, washing away the last fog of his nightmare. While the powerful jets pummel his muscles, he thinks that, although it’s been nice to be completely cut off from the world for the past few weeks, he really does miss his phone. He adds it to his mental list of things to do as he gets out of the shower, clears the steam from the mirror and contemplates his goatee, turning his face from side to side. The Change has many side effects, one being that he doesn’t need to shave as often as a normal person, he can pretty much go for weeks with no noticeable change and yet his hair will grow like crazy. Reaching for his toothbrush, he remembers the rabbit he ate not so long ago and, with a grimace, he pushes his body a little to elongate his fangs from his gums and scrub them furiously. Spitting the toothpaste into the sink, he raises his head and catches sight of himself in the mirror, eyes glinting a hard, golden color, wicked-looking teeth crowding his mouth and instantly pulls his body back in line.

_“How will she ever love you, once she knows,”_ he asks out loud to the empty room, _“you poor, misguided fool.”_

A could of steam follows him as he opens the door to the bedroom, actually dropping his wet towels and his dirty jeans into the hamper in his closet before pulling on a pair of boxer briefs and stuffing his feet back into his slippers. He grabs himself an oversized mug of coffee from the kitchen, places his answering machine on the bed, piles up his pillows and gets comfy, opening his laptop and starting it up. Pressing play on the answering machine, he starts wading through his emails, most of them well wishes from friends, telling him they hope he feels better. He’s starting to wonder what Clark told people he had when he opens an email from Andy, telling him to get off his lazy ass and asking him who he was kissing to get mono. He fires of a suitable reply, informing Andy that he was kissing his mother and she liked it then closes his email, flagging a few work-related ones to deal with later.

He browses a few of his favorite sites, catching up on what he’s missed, then opens a new tab and sits there watching the cursor blink in the search bar. His fingers quickly fly over the keys, typing in Lucia’s name and hitting enter before he can change his mind. He scrolls quickly through the few articles he comes across, then finds mention of an exhibition she did at a local gallery he knows quite well. He follows the link to their website, clicking through the images of her work, wishing he could have seen them in person and marveling at the small twists of fate that have kept them on the outskirts of each other’s lives in the city, both of them frequenting a lot of the same places but never, it would seem, at the same time. His fingers freeze on the keys as he clicks to the last shot in the image gallery to find, instead of one more of her paintings, a candid shot of the artist herself standing beside one of her works. She’s dressed in a clingy cocktail dress, black stockings sheathing her legs, with a pair of killer stilettos on her feet and her hair swept up into an elegant style. She looks so far removed from the natural style that he’s become accustomed too that he has to look twice to make sure that it’s really her. He stares at her image, trying to reconcile this sleek creature with the Lucia in his mind, her smiling face filling his vision as he recalls his favorite memory of her, sprawled naked across her bed, the morning sun warming her skin tone and throwing golden highlights into her dark hair.

That morning, she had lain naked and unashamed in front of him, her confidence in her body and her sexuality more of a turn on to him than any super model could ever be. His mind’s eye devours her curves, the swell of her buttocks and the slight roundness of her stomach, her small breasts which were like nectar to him, the way they tasted under his tongue. He thinks about how she liked to be kissed on the underside of each one, how she would softly laugh in delight when his goatee would tickle her skin as he worked his way carefully around each breast, taking his time to love each one thoroughly before rewarding himself by taking the ripe bud of her nipple into his mouth and sucking until her light laughs had turned to deep moans of pleasure.

Unconsciously, he’s tipped the laptop from his thighs and he’s only dimly aware of the fact that his hand is wrapped around his cock, fist pumping his shaft inside his underwear, as he’s lost in his thoughts. His mind travels her body, each scar and blemish committed to his memory, each erogenous zone filed away for future use, his mind’s eye coming to rest on the dark thatch of hair covering her mound. He loves the naturalness of her, he’s been with women of all types but there’s something that speaks to the primal beast in him at the sight of an unshaven pussy, that hint of pinkness glistening through the hair a promise of what’s to come. It drives him wild, that and the scent of her sex, from the subtle aroma of her every day to the dizzying smell of her arousal that has the beast within him clawing to get out and drive its way into her. He feels himself start to salivate as he pumps his fist harder around his cock, a deep ache in his balls made worse by the sense-memory of her taste, how he loves the slick wetness of her juices when they coat his taste-buds, the heat between the folds of her pussy and the way her clit pulses as he licks it.

With a strangled cry, he comes, pushing his hips up off the bed until he’s done, fingers wrapped loosely around his cum-slicked shaft while he gasps for breath. He lays back, eyes closed, enjoying the sensations radiating throughout his body until he catches the scent of his ejaculate, now soaking into the material of his underwear, and he wrinkles his nose in disgust at the mess he’s made of himself. He grabs a handful of tissues from the box beside the bed and tries futilely to clean himself up then gives up and heads into the bathroom to take care of himself properly.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Norman spends the rest of his morning sifting through the enormous pile of mail he retrieves from the doorman downstairs, stopping on the way back up to reclaim Eye in the Dark with promises to have dinner with Mrs. H real soon to catch her up on his vacation. As is the case with most cats, his loves him voraciously for about ten minutes then gets bored and wanders off to fall asleep by the window like he’s never been gone. Starting to feel a little stir crazy already and to keep his mind from wanting to call Lucia, Norman grabs his keys and heads out, snagging his replacement credit cards from his mail before he leaves. In a non-descript dark jacket, with his Ray Bans planted firmly over his eyes, he keeps his head down, adopting a scowl that he hopes will keep people from bothering him at least long enough for him to get his driving license replaced and a new phone taken care of. For the most part it works, a few times he catches people in his peripheral vision giving him a second glance but he just keeps on moving, not giving anyone the opportunity to slow him down.

He stops in at the local deli by his apartment and stocks up on some essentials, here actually taking the time to chat with guys behind the register and catch up on what’s been happening in the neighborhood while he’s been gone. Back home, he moves the laptop into the living room, setting it up on the island that separates the kitchen, and gets stuck into replying to his work-related emails. When his head starts to ache from staring at the screen for too long, he snaps it closed, moving to flop on the sofa instead, playing with his new phone until he’s tweaked the settings the way he wants them. He keeps himself busy into the evening, finding anything and everything to do to keep his mind off Lucia. Eventually he runs out of distractions and finds himself outside on the balcony, pacing the small space, chain-smoking and just letting the night and the essence of the city wash over him.

His fingers keep dipping into the front pocket of his jeans to touch the folded paper he has tucked away, even though he’s already memorized her address and phone number, until finally he tells himself to stop being a pussy and go see her if that’s what he really wants to do. Twenty-four hours ago she told you she loved you, he reminds himself, do you really think so much has changed in a day? With his mind set, he leaves his apartment, hailing a cab as soon as he can and reciting Lucia’s address off to the driver. Traffic is light and it’s not long before they’re pulling up outside of a modest-looking brownstone in a nice area of the city, where he pays the driver and climbs the steps to her front door, only to find it unlocked. He goes inside and heads up the stairs to the third floor, making a mental note to ask her if that door is always open, worrying a little about her security.

Standing outside the door to her apartment, he hesitates for a second before ringing the buzzer, hearing the muted sounds of the tv coming from inside, then he takes a deep breath and pushes the button, hearing the shrill sound reverberate throughout the apartment beyond the door and the responding sound of Beegle’s nails scrabbling across the floor inside. He can hear Lucia approach the other side of the door, shushing Beegle, and he avoids staring at the peep-hole knowing she must be checking to see who’s there before he hears her unlocking the deadbolts. The door flies open and his greeting is cut off as Lucia barrels out, throwing herself at him, her face tear-streaked and anguished as she buries her face in his neck, freaking him out.

_“Baby, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? What happened?”_ he asks frantically, his hands skimming over her, checking her for injuries.

_“Sophia’s dead and Rick shot her!”_ she wails from the vicinity of his chest.

_“Oh babe”,_ he says, laughing gently and wrapping his arms around her. He can smell the sweet tang of wine on her breath as she tilts her head back to look up at him, her hair falling across her eyes.

_“You’re here,”_ she says, half statement, half question and he can hear the slight slide in her words that tells him she’s more than a little drunk.

_“I am,”_ he replies, pushing her hair back out of her eyes and tucking it behind her ear. _“So, are you going to ask me in?”_

_“Oops, silly me,”_ she giggles, backpedalling into the apartment and towing him after her by the front of his jacket. He keeps a firm grip on her arm as he closes the door behind him and locks it.

_“Welcome to my humble abode,”_ she says, leading him from the narrow entryway into a fair-sized, open-plan room, not quite as large as his place but not far off. She drags him to the sofa, pulling off his jacket and nudging him to sit down, then climbs on beside him, tucking her legs underneath her and leaning into his side. He glances at the coffee table in front of him which is littered with an array of half-empty take-out containers, crumpled up tissues and an almost empty wine bottle.

_“Lucia, did you drink the whole bottle?”_ he asks in a mock stern tone.

_“Why, did you want some? I have more,”_ she replies, starting to get up but he pulls her back down.

_“No, I’m fine,”_ he tells her, patting her thigh reassuringly, _“but you’re drunk.”_

_“I am not!”_ she scoffs, waving a hand at him. _“You just think I am because you’re not.”_

_“O—kay,”_ he says, a smile pulling at his lips at this new side of her.

_“See? Perfectly sober,”_ she insists, trying to touch the tip of her nose with her finger and missing by a mile. _“Okay, maybe I’m a little tipsy but it’s all your fault.”_

_“My fault?”_

_“Yes, your fault,”_ she repeats, jabbing him in the chest with her finger.

_“What did I do?”_

_“Well, first of all, I woke up this morning and you weren’t there, which was quite ridiculous because you should have been. So, I took Beegle out to forget about you and your stupid blue eyes and your stupid way of making me horny just by looking at you and then the nice men brought my paintings from the cabin and there you were again, making me miss you even more.”_

Norman tries not to laugh at the crestfallen look on her face, like a child whose suddenly been told its time for bed.

_“So, I thought I’d watch some of your stupid show,”_ she continues, then stops dead, staring at him for a few seconds.

_“You’re on Netflix,”_ she says in an awed whisper, her eyes going wide as if she’s just discovered an amazing secret that she has to share with him.

_“I know,”_ he replies with a chuckle.

_“Anyway, it turns out that your show isn’t stupid, it’s amazing but it’s as scary as fuck so I thought I’d have a little wine with my lunch to calm my nerves. And then, wouldn’t you know it… BOOM… the wine is all gone and the damn show is still on!”_

_“Wait,”_ Norman says, _“this is your second bottle?”_

_“Second, fourth, who’s counting? That’s not the point. The point is… wait… what was the question?”_

_“Oh, Lucia, my love,”_ he laughs, shaking his head.

_“Can I tell you something?”_ she asks, suddenly subdued again.

_“Anything.”_

She leans in conspiratorially.

_“I don’t much like your brother and that Lori is a manpuv.. a manipulative bitch. Someone should eat her already.”_

She sits back and clamps her hand over her mouth like she’s just said a terrible thing and it’s all Norman can do to stop from busting a gut laughing.

_“And then you, mister,”_ she says, removing her hand from her mouth to poke accusingly at his chest again, _“being all dirty, and sexy, and badass with your swagger and your bike and your goddamn fucking arms. Do you have any idea what you’ve been doing to me all day? I’m a mess. Look at me.”_

Norman does look at her, from her disheveled hair and the redness of her eyes to the fact that she’s wearing one of his t-shirts that he didn’t even know she’d taken and he thinks to himself that he couldn’t love her any more than he does right now. She’s his one, his partner, his mate, of that he has no doubt. Either she picks up on his thoughts or something in his eyes gives him away because suddenly she’s clambering onto his lap, her hand shoving into his hair as she attacks his lips in a wet, messy kiss. He kisses her back for a minute then gently separates her away from him.

_“Wanna fuck?”_ she asks mischievously, wriggling on his lap.

_“Baby, I’d love to,”_ he replies, stilling her body’s motion with his hands on her hips and lowering his voice to a whisper, as if imparting to her a great secret, _“but we can’t. You haven’t shown me the rest of your apartment yet.”_

_“Oh my God, you’re right,”_ she squeals, sliding backwards off his lap and pulling on his hand.

Even though he can pretty much see the whole room form where he is, she makes a big show of leading him around the kitchen and dining area then taking him along a short hallway, passing the guest bath and opening the next door along.

_“This is my studio,”_ she announces with a flourish and he can hear the pride in her voice that may not have shown if she wasn’t drunk.

The room is not quite as large as her one back at the cabin, there’s no desk although she does still have an incredibly comfy-looking sofa backed up against the windows with her trademark stack of books piled up beside it. His eyes slide over the neatly stacked tools of her trade, the organized storage unit for all her supplies, and he marvels at the juxtaposition of this room and the mess of the living room with its bold art on the walls and her clutter of brick-a-brack. She once told him that her creative space needed to be very neutral or she couldn’t concentrate and this room is certainly that but, having watched her work before, he knows that it will become a riot of color and chaos when she’s deep in her zone. He’s desperate to take a closer look at the works she has hanging on the walls but he’s distracted by Lucia snuggling into his side and resting her head against his chest. She seems to have forgotten all about the apartment tour and her sudden need to jump his bones which is something of a relief to him as he would never take advantage of her in her current state but he didn’t want to reject her advances either and possibly upset her.

_‘Hey,”_ he says softly, tilting her chin up to look at her face, _“how about we go get cozy on the sofa and I’ll watch another episode of my stupid show with you, huh? What do you think?”_

She nods up at him, giving him a crooked smile, her green eyes already starting to droop a little and he wonders how long it will be before she crashes completely. He steers her back to the living room, kicking off his boots and laying down on the sofa, pulling her to lay with her back against his chest and wrapping his arm around her protectively. Beegle jumps up to lay across both their feet and Lucia reaches for the remote, waking up the tv from standby and starting the next episode. Before the title music has even ended, she’s asleep, a tiny snore rising up from her, and Norman smiles to himself, cradling her in his arms and knowing that he’d protect this precious creature with his very life if he had to.

He lays with her like that, his mind wandering, the familiar sounds from the tv lulling him like white noise until Beegle jumps down from the end of the sofa and trots to the front door, whining softly. Norman gently untangles himself from Lucia’s sleeping form, one look at her face telling him that she won’t be awake for anything, any time soon. Pulling a blanket from the back of the sofa over her, he slips back into his boots, grabs Beegle’s leash and Lucia’s keys from beside the door and lets himself out.

_“I’m sorry, boy,”_ he says quietly, fastening the leash onto Beegle’s collar. _“I know you probably hate this thing but we don’t have a choice.”_

Beegle looks up at him, tail swishing madly and nudges at his hand with his cold nose.

_“Okay, buddy, let’s make this quick, huh? Don’t want to leave your mama alone too long do we?”_

The brisk night air has Norman wishing he’d brought his jacket, even with his high body temperature, but he’s not out for long, just enough time to make a quick trip around the block for Beegle to do his business and then he’s heading back inside, racing the exuberant dog up the stairs to Lucia’s apartment.

She’s laying exactly as he left her and, after checking Beegle has food and water, he stands in front of the sofa, looking down at her. Bending, he scoops her up into his arms, soothing her as she stirs a little against his neck, and carries her to the last room at the end of the hall which he assumes can only be her bedroom. He places her on the neatly-made bed, pulling the covers back from under her and then wrapping them snugly around her, making sure he turns her on her side before he heads back to the kitchen to pour her a glass of water which he sits by the bed. Leaving the bedroom door open, knowing his ears will pick up any noise she makes no matter where he is in the apartment, he goes around switching off all the lights and the tv, pacing confidently through the darkened space.

He doesn’t plan on sleeping, just in case she gets sick in the night and needs him. Silently, he slips into her studio, a small shiver of excitement running through him as he flips on the light and starts perusing her work. As before, at the cabin, he takes his time, savoring each piece as though it were a juicy morsel of food and he a starving man. He loses himself in her work, moving from piece to piece as the hours tick by and the heavy silence, which only comes in the dead of night, descends over the apartment. He can hear Lucia’s rhythmic breathing from the bedroom and the sound comforts him as he turns from the last canvas, feeling slightly bereft that there’s nothing more for him to devour. His eyes light on the stack of wrapped canvasses by the door, recognizing them as the ones she had over-nighted from the cabin, and then flit to her easel, noticing the canvas held on its frame and wondering if it’s the same piece she has been working on so secretively during the past few weeks. He steps towards it and realizes it’s covered with a drop cloth, hiding it from his view. The devil in him whispers for him to just lift the cloth and take a look but he can’t do it, knowing that Lucia would see as a huge violation of her trust in him. Resolutely, he turns his back on it, leaving the room and closing the door. _When she’s ready for me to see it, she’ll show it to me,_ he thinks, padding back to her bedroom. He gets undressed, slipping under the covers beside her sleeping form, lacing his fingers behind his head and staring up at the ceiling as he waits for the morning and for Lucia to wake up.


	11. Chapter 11

_“No!”_

_“Eat it, you’ll feel better.”_

_“I don’t want it,”_ she tells him, pushing the plate away from her.

_“Lucia, stop being such a baby and eat the damn eggs.”_

_“Why are you torturing me?”_ she says, flopping dramatically face-first onto the counter top.

_“I’m not torturing you,”_ Norman laughs. _“Drama queen.”_

_“Can’t I just have more coffee?”_ she asks, lifting her head hopefully.

_“No way.”_ He backs up against the coffee-maker, blocking it from her sight. _“You’ve had three cups already. You need food.”_

_“I need you to get out of my house,”_ she replies, returning her aching head to the cool granite surface.

_“I liked you better when you were drunk,”_ he mutters.

_“What was that?”_ she asks, whipping her head up which she automatically regrets and pinning him with what she hopes is a vicious stare.

_“Nothing, babe,”_ he answers innocently but she can see the grin lurking on his face.

The smell of the eggs and toast in front of her teases her nose and her stomach rumbles hungrily. Hooking the plate with one finger, she slides it towards her and debates whether eating them is a good idea or not. She’s not usually one to suffer hangovers, not since her youth anyway, but then she’s also not one to drink almost two bottles of wine by herself in a day. Of course, Norman had to pick yesterday to arrive unannounced on her doorstep, she thinks as he silently nudges her and hands her a fork. Why couldn’t he be like your typical male and just not call for the first three days at least? But no, there he was, being as far from a typical male as anyone could be, standing on her doorstep with his ridiculously handsome face and his perfectly flawed body. Oh, and let’s not forget his easy sex-appeal and his wicked sense of humor, she mentally adds, sliding a sideways glance at him as she finishes off the eggs. He’s watching her intently and she wonders, for a moment, if her inner monologue wasn’t so inner.

_“What?”_ she asks, holding out her empty coffee mug to him.

With a sigh, he takes it and gets up to refill it, dropping her dirty plate into the sink as he goes.

_“I was thinking maybe I should cancel your Netflix subscription or at least get you a chaperone if you’re gonna watch the rest of the show. If you’re this much of a mess now, God knows what you’ll be like later. Probably need to check you into rehab,”_ he says, giving her a sly grin.

_“Why, what happens?”_

_“Oh, come on, I’m not going to tell you that,”_ he laughs.

_“Well, I can just go online and find out for myself.”_

_“You can but you won’t. You’re just like me, Lucia, you have to take the journey or the end result just feels hollow somehow.”_

_“Have I told you today how much I dislike you?”_ she asks with a scowl.

_“You love me and you know it,”_ he says, leaning over to plant a prickly kiss on her temple, _“and now you’re vertical and I don’t have to worry about you choking on your own vomit anymore, I’m going to go home, feed my cat and crash.”_

_“You’re not staying?”_ Lucia’s heart drops a little.

_“I’ll call you later,”_ he promises with another kiss to her head, _“but, right now, I have stuff to do and you, lady, need to take a shower! No more Walking Dead today, okay. I’m sure you have way more important things to be taking care of.”_

Lucia pouts a little as he pulls on his jacket, hating that he’s right and hating even more that he’s leaving already. She follows him to the door, Beegle trailing behind her, where he wraps her in a tight hug before he goes. She leans against the closed door for a moment until the warmth of his skin fades from hers and then she pushes off from the cool surface, ready to get on with her life. She wanders back to the kitchen, sitting down to finish her coffee and sees her cell phone laying on the counter. She grabs it and scrolls through her contacts, smiling as she hits connect, bending over to scratch at Beegle’s ears while it rings.

_“What’s wrong?”_ comes his voice, intimate in her ear, and she can hear the sounds of traffic on the street behind him.

_“So, evidently, my new boyfriend is so in love with me that he couldn’t stand to be away from me for more than one night.”_

_“Is that so?”_ he asks and she can hear the smile in his voice. _“Well, evidently, my new girlfriend is so in love with me that she hit the bottle the moment I was out of her sight and didn’t stop until she was totally wasted.”_

_“Wow… she sounds like a real loser!”_

_“Good-bye, Lucia.”_

He hangs up and she drops her phone back on the counter-top, draining the last of her coffee and wondering what to do next.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It doesn’t take long for them to fall into a routine of sharing their lives and, by the time winter has fully wrapped its frigid grip around the heart of the city their lives are completely entwined. The minute Lucia had seen Norman’s apartment she was smitten, for all that she loved her own home, his had stolen her heart with its high ceilings and brightly-lit spaces. She loved the way the light changed as the sun moved around the building throughout the day, her mind’s eye already seeing the different tones in pieces she hadn’t even begun to create yet. But what had really won her over was the terrace, her first visit taking place in the middle of a thunderstorm where she had stood, forehead pressed against the cool glass, watching the weather raging over the city skyline, wanting desperately to run outside and explore the outdoor space until Norman had pulled her gently away from the windows, distracting her with the one thing she couldn’t resist – him. Any kind of outside area was a premium in the city, something to be cherished, and it was the one thing Lucia had compromised on when she’d bought her own apartment.

The only wrinkle in their otherwise idyllic arrangement came from their animal counterparts. Although Norman had assured her that Eye in the Dark had lived with dogs before, his initial encounter with Beegle resulted in a major clash that left Norman sporting some pretty deep scratches across his hands as he’d wrestled EITD off of a cowering Beegle who had just been trying to make friends in his usual exuberant fashion. It took some time and a few more heated spats but finally an uneasy truce was reached between them as EITD seemed to come to the realization that these new additions to his household were going to be regular visitors so he might as well deal with them.

When Norman would leave on work-related trips, Lucia would stay at his place, ostensibly to house-sit for him but in reality because she wanted to be surrounded by the essence of him until he returned. The first couple of times he had gone, she had been beside herself, her concentration shot, unable to focus on her work, just waiting for him to call like a love-sick teenager and she hated herself for it. She’d never been one to let her life be dictated by a man, she’d always been fiercely independent but this man had thrown all that out of the window. It physically pained her when she was away from him, a deep ache in her chest the whole time he was gone, and eventually she came to the conclusion that maybe she’d never felt like that before because maybe she’d never really been in love before. Once she’d acknowledged that fact, she embraced it, understanding that loving him and missing him didn’t make her weak.

So she’d volunteered to take care of his place whenever he went out of town, although she refused point-blank at looking after Luna, still leaving that to Mrs. H’s grandson. For his part, she knew that Norman was more than happy to know she was at his place while he was gone. He’d told her on numerous occasions that he didn’t think her apartment building was secure enough but she always dismissed his concerns as him being overly protective. Lucia was learning that this was an integral part of his psyche, the need to keep her safe, and it didn’t mean that he thought she was some helpless damsel that needed a man to take care of her, he seemed to almost do it on an instinctive level. While it made her feel secure with him, it never gave her the feeling of being smothered by him, that he was making decisions for her.

They still lived their own lives, spent time doing things apart that the other had no interest in, seeing their own friends but still coming home together at the end of every day. Lucia discovered that Norman’s lifestyle took him away from home more than she had expected and, even though he asked her before every trip if she wanted to accompany him, so far she had declined, telling him that she wasn’t ready for that yet. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to travel with him, meet the people he spoke so animatedly about, she just didn’t want to be seen as ‘the girlfriend’, tagging along on the coattails of her celebrity boyfriend. In New York it was relatively easy to fly under the radar of the paparazzi and the eagle-eyed fans, leaving the apartment separately and then meeting up later on. Norman had perfected the art of blending in over the years, only being seen when he wanted to and, when they did go out together to socialize, it was mainly to places where he was well-known, where people didn’t give him a second glance if he was in their midst.

Fan encounters were a different thing, the first time it had happened Lucia’s instinct was just to keep walking when Norman was approached on the street, watching from a distance as he doled out hugs and handshakes, mugging it up for the camera until everyone was happy and he could be on his way. He’d questioned her about it that night as they’d lain together in his bed, bodies comfortably entwined in the aftermath of their love-making. His hesitant probing revealed that he was worried about her being jealous of the random women that practically threw themselves at him at any opportunity. He had explained that he had dated women before that just couldn’t handle it even though it was nothing more than another aspect of his work. His fans were the backbone of his success, he told her, without them he was nothing and he was still flattered and humbled that, after all his years in the business, people actually got excited by meeting him and that he would always give his time to them when he could, that was never going to change.

Lucia had thought long and hard before answering him, telling him honestly that, yes, of course she had felt a poke from the green-eyed monster at the sight of him surrounded by other women, some of them extremely beautiful who were obviously smitten with him, she wouldn’t be human if she’d felt anything less. But she also understood how he felt and more importantly what it meant to his fans to have even the briefest interaction with someone they idolized and adored. Hell, she’d been a fangirl herself in her teens although she wouldn’t confess to him of who, no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her, and she knew how much it would have thrilled her just to get a ‘hello’ from her idols. So she let him know that it wasn’t going to be a problem for her, that she would be respectful of his fans and the image they had of him. Then she had slid her hand down under the covers to grasp firmly at his cock, making him groan as she had informed him that as long as this was hers and only hers and that the only place it was going to be active was with her, then she had no problem whatsoever with beautiful women throwing themselves at him. Norman had vowed that he was hers alone, for as long as she’d have him, promising her his fidelity first with his words and then with his body as he’d slipped eagerly inside of her again, the weight of him covering her as he’d claimed her mouth with his own..

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

It was the beginning of December and the city was already knee-deep in snow, making life miserable for its inhabitants and the throngs of tourists that were still flocking to the bright lights, the lure of Christmas windows drawing them in with their false promises of festive cheer and goodwill to all men.

Norman was away, warmly ensconced on the other side of the country at yet another convention with the infamous Sean she had heard so much about but had yet to meet. Lucia didn’t know how she’d managed it but somehow she’d found herself a cab to take her from her apartment to Norman’s and now she was riding in the back, heart in her throat, as her driver took to the slippery roads with wild abandon. When the cab slides to a halt outside of Norman’s building, she prises her aching fingers from the armrest she’s been clinging to and hastily pays the driver before carefully exiting the cab. She’s reaching back in to wrestle out the large, framed canvas that had been carefully wrapped against the elements when she feels a presence beside her and turns her head to see Rodrigo, the night doorman for Norman’s building, standing beside her.

_“Here, Ms. Lucia,”_ he says, handing her an open umbrella to shield her from the heavily falling snow that was already layering her winter coat, _“let me get that for you.”_

She takes a step to one side, being careful not to slip on the slick pavement and watches fretfully as the great bear of a man gently lifts her precious cargo from the back seat and hurries into the building with it, leaving her to slam the cab door and follow him inside.

Rodrigo insists on carrying the canvas up to Norman’s apartment despite Lucia’s protests that she can manage and she insists on generously tipping him in spite of his own protestations. With the painting safely leaning against the kitchen island, Lucia shrugs off her damp coat and hangs it up, letting Beegle lead her to the kitchen so she can feed him. EITD stares at her disdainfully from the kitchen island and she takes time to give him some love, knowing that he misses Norman and thinks that she’s a poor substitute. He grudgingly gives her a subdued purr as she tickles him under the chin before setting about preparing herself a late dinner, glancing at the clock as she cooks, working out the time difference between her and Norman, knowing he’ll call her as soon as he gets back to his hotel.

She flicks on the tv while she eats, thinking she’ll have time for a nap before he calls as she knows he was planning on going out to dinner with Sean and Clark once the convention was over for the day. She wonders what kind of mischief the three of them can get into in the space of one evening, their previous exploits having been told to her in all their inglorious details. She trusts Clark to keep a level head to a certain extent, after all that’s his job, she’s met him a few times now and took an instant liking to him but Sean is still the wild card in their group. From the stories she’s heard it would seem that he’s always the instigator for their crazy schemes. She knows that Norman regards him as his brother but there seems more to it than that, almost as if he owes Sean something, that there’s a deeper bond there than he’s admitting and Lucia is eager to meet him and his wife although Norman won’t say much about her other than she’s perfect for Sean, a match made in heaven.

After dinner, Lucia heads to the bedroom, takes a quick shower then slips between the sheets of Norman’s ridiculously large bed, sprawling across his side to read for a while by the light of the only lamp in the room. The buzzing of her cell phone pulls her from the light doze she’s fallen into, her book thudding to the floor as she curses and fumbles to answer it.

_“Baby, were you sleeping?”_ he asks after her initial greeting, his voice warm and familiar in her ear.

_“A little,”_ she replies, stifling a yawn and checking the clock. _“Hey, it’s only just past 10 there, I didn’t think you’d be calling this early. Wait… you’re not in jail are you?”_

_“No,”_ he chuckles, the sound sending pleasant vibrations across her skin, _“not in jail. There was this girl and Sean and… well, it was a whole big thing. I’ll tell you about it when I get home. Right now I just want to talk to you. How was your day, gorgeous?”_

Lucia can hear the barest slur in his words and she knows he’s had just enough alcohol to relax him and enhance his mood without tipping him over into the idiot stage.

_“It was good. Finally finished a piece I’ve been working on for ages…”_

_“Wait,”_ he interrupts her, _“not the mystery painting from the cabin? Holy fuck, Lucia, don’t tell me I’m finally going to see it?”_

_“That’s the one,”_ Lucia replies, laughing softly. He’s been bugging her about that piece ever since she started it, constantly telling her he was going to sneak a look when she wasn’t around but she knew he never would.

_“I remember the day you started it,”_ he says in a low voice, his tone sending a shiver down her spine as she recalls the first time they made love. She runs her tongue across her lips, she can almost taste the summer heat from his skin that day as she closes her eyes and loses herself in the memory. _“So, Beautiful, if you’ve been painting all day I’m guessing you must be more than a little worked up right about now, especially if you finished something. Tell me, did you relieve a little tension when you were done, set the washer to spin?”_

Lucia gives a small chuckle, stretching her body comfortably under the sheets.

_“No, nothing like that. I wanted to share it with you when you got home.”_

_“Oh, babe, no. I don’t think we should let all that tension go to waste and I don’t think I can wait another night.”_

_“Then what do you suggest?”_ Lucia asks, matching his low tone, hearing the lust evident in his voice and feeling her body respond in kind.

_“What are you wearing?”_ he whispers and she laughs lightly at the cliché.

_“Nothing but a smile,”_ she replies playfully.

_“Liar,”_ he responds softly. _“I bet you’re wearing the t-shirt I left on the chair Thursday night because it still smells of me and you miss me.”_

_“Oh you think you’re so smart,”_ Lucia tells him, sticking her tongue out at him even though she knows he can’t see her. _“Having to be right all the time is a very unattractive quality in a man, Mr. Reedus.”_

_“Take it off,”_ he demands, his tone shifting and she feels another of those delightful shivers run down her spine as she pulls the shirt off over her head, inhaling his scent as it briefly covers her face and then laying back against the pillows, completely naked.

_“I want you to stroke your breasts for me, squeeze them and tease those delicious nipples until they’re hard and ripe, just how I like them when I pull them with my teeth.”_

Lucia complies, tucking the phone against her shoulder as she slides her hands down over her breasts, making contented moans into the phone while she pinches at her nipples. She can hear Norman’s coarse breathing in her ear and she pictures him, propped naked against the pillows, legs apart with his heels dug in, one hand wrapped loosely around his stiffening cock, not teasing himself yet but ready.

_“Mmm, baby, I wish I could be there to kiss you right now, suck at that spot on your neck that always has you begging for more,”_ his voice is thick with arousal, his words making her toes curl into the mattress. _“Slide your hand down for me, lover, tease yourself a little.”_

Lucia follows his directions, stroking soft circles across her abdomen before lowering her fingers to brush through the hair on her mound, just teasing around the edges of her pussy until she can feel it starting to throb with the need to be touched.

_“Norman,”_ she breathes into the phone, _“baby, I’m aching for you. I can feel myself getting so wet.”_

_“And you have no idea how hard I am for you right now. Fuck! The thought of you, laying there like that in our bed, your fingers exploring your body, it’s driving me wild.”_

_“Uhh, baby, I want to touch myself, I need to. For you,”_ Lucia groans into the phone, her fingers skimming over the wet lips of her pussy, creating shudders of sensation that have her biting her lip.

_“Wait!”_ he says sharply and she gives a grunt of frustration but pulls her hand away all the same. _“Open my drawer, baby, I left you a little something.”_

Curious, Lucia leans over and hooks the drawer handle with her index finger, sliding it open while she keeps the phone to her ear with her other hand. Nestled among the detritus that only a grown man can accumulate in a bedside drawer is a small, sleek vibrator, its glossy-black, bullet-shaped body tied with a black silk ribbon in a sloppy bow.

_“You told me you’d never had one,”_ murmurs Norman, the vibration of his voice tickling her earlobe. _“I thought maybe you could use a little company while I was gone.”_

_“I actually said I’d never needed one,”_ Lucia corrects him as she lifts it from the drawer, its shiny surface reflecting glints of light from the lamp.

_“Nobody needs one, Lucia,” _he chuckles, _“but I’d like you to try it. Will you do that for me?”_

Lucia settles herself back on the bed, resting the phone against her shoulder once more as her fingers tug off the silky ribbon, discarding it on the bed, to stroke her fingertips along the short length of the vibrator’s shaft, her thumb rubbing over its smooth, rounded head. With a small click of the discreet button on the end, it hums into life and Lucia’s mouth goes dry as the compact yet powerful motor thrums hard against her palm, making her skin tingle and her pussy clench at the thought of it touching her more intimately. She clears her throat before answering him.

_“Well, seeing as you’ve already bought it and all, it would be rude of me not to give it a go.”_

She can hear him smothering a laugh on the other end of the line but she doesn’t care.

_“Oh baby, if I was there, I’d tease your pussy with that toy, make you whine for me so loud. Slide it against you, baby, tell me how it feels.”_

Lucia takes a breath, holding it as she slips the throbbing toy against the top of her mound and then pushes it down between her lips to rest against her clit. Her whole body arches like it’s been shot through with electricity at that first touch, the sensations coursing out from that point as it explodes against her sensitive flesh.

_“Holy fuuck…shittt...Norman…fuck!”_

_“Damn, Lucia baby,”_ he moans, his voice cracking at her obvious pleasure.

_“Jesus fucking Christ… it feels so fucking good. Shit!”_

Lucia licks her lips, trying to form a coherent thought between the stimulation on her body and the stimulation to her brain from listening to him.

_“Push it inside you, baby,”_ he pleads and she can hear the rawness in his breath beneath his words, knowing that he’s working his cock hard and fast. With a sharp intake of breath followed by a moaning exhale, she slips the short length into her already pulsing pussy, its smooth sides and narrow girth easily parting her slick walls. The internal stimulation has her bucking up from the bed again, nonsense words spilling from her lips as she eases it in and out a few times, its slim shaft warming with the heat of her body.

_“Nor…Norman,”_ she moans, drawing out his name until he’s cursing in her ear, _“I want to…uhh…I need to…”_

_“Come for me, lover, my dirty beautiful girl, I want to hear you scream.”_

Lucia pulls the tip of the vibrator back up against her clit, widening her thighs as she massages it back and forth against it, closing her eyes and losing herself in its touch and the way it’s making her body feel, Norman panting raggedly in her ear as he urges her on.

_“Fuc…I’m…I’m…fuck…Normaaan!”_

She practically shrieks his name as her orgasm rips through her, hearing his deep growl as he joins her and then she’s gone, her whole body a shuddering mass of feelings.

She can feel herself panting as she slowly regains control of her body, aware that the phone has slid from her ear and she can faintly hear Norman’s voice from somewhere behind her shoulder. She fumbles to grasp the phone, her fingers still tingling from their tight grip on the vibrator’s end.

_“I’m here,”_ she croaks, her voice catching dryly in her throat.

_“How are you doing there, sweetheart?”_ he asks, a grin evident in the cadence of his words.

Lucia feels something buzzing against her thigh and reaches down, fingers searching blindly until they wrap around the sticky shaft of the dropped vibrator and her thumb depresses the off button, stilling its motion. She hefts its weight against her palm, rolling it along her skin before she answers him.

_“I think maybe you need to go away more often,”_ she tells him and he barks a laugh into her ear.

_“So I’m taking it that you liked your gift?”_

_“You could say that,”_ she sighs contentedly.

_“Hey, don’t get too used to it. I’m coming home tomorrow don’t forget.”_

_“I know, lover, and you have nothing to worry about. As much fun as this little guy is it’ll never be any substitute for the real thing. I miss you, baby. Tomorrow can’t come soon enough for me.”_

_“Me either,”_ he replies softly.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Lucia sleeps late the next day, not waking until almost lunchtime and even then only because a persistent Beegle presses his cold, wet nose against her neck numerous times. She drags herself out of bed, trying to will her eyes to focus as she pulls on her clothes to take Beegle outside, thankful for the still falling snow which means that she can draw her hood up over her face so nobody can see what a mess she is. The cold slap of the snow-filled air does rally all her senses though the instant she steps outside, hurrying Beegle along to do his business, stifling a yawn as her mind turns over her conversation with Norman the previous night. After their impromptu make-out session they had talked until Lucia happened to glance at the clock and saw that it was the early hours of the morning where Norman was. Chastising him for distracting her when he knew he had to be up early the next day, she’d bid him good night with the promise of an extra-special welcome when he got home.

Stamping her feet in the snow as Beegle circles the same lamp-post for the umpteenth time, she thinks about the dinner she’s planning on cooking, making a mental grocery list of things she needs to run out and buy that afternoon. With Beegle finally satisfied that there are no more new smells he may have missed, he allows himself to be ushered back inside where Lucia flicks on the coffee-maker while she goes to take a shower.

After a light brunch, she spends the afternoon curled up on the sofa relaxing, sketching a little and reading, before opening up her favorite recipe book on the kitchen counter and running down the list of ingredients one more time. Pulling on her boots and coat again, she grabs her purse and her phone and heads out into the wintery darkness to walk the two blocks to the local deli. The residential streets are practically deserted, most people warmly tucked up at home to enjoy the last of their weekend, just the odd car passing her by to break the silence that only deep snow can bring.

She’s almost in sight of Norman’s apartment on the return trip, arms laden with two bulging paper sacks of groceries, her head bent against the blowing snow and her mind filled with warm thoughts of the evening ahead, when a deep voice behind her stops her in her tracks.

_“Excuse me, miss, you dropped something.”_

She turns instinctively to see a young man, probably in his late twenties although it’s hard to tell under the hood he has pulled up to protect him from the elements, standing a few paces behind her holding something indistinct in his outstretched hand. Lucia freezes, something in his demeanor or maybe the look on his face, sending warning bells jangling along her nerve-endings.

_“I-I don’t think that’s mine,”_ she says, hating how weak her voice sounds to her own ears. She turns on her heel, thinking that she’s close enough to home to make it even if he tries something, and crashes full-on into the chest of a second man who has appeared silently behind her, blocking her path. The breath whooshes out of her lungs as the groceries dig into her ribcage and her heart thuds painfully in her chest as she back-pedals away from him. Her eyes dart nervously around for help but there’s no one in sight, the thickly-falling snow pretty much obscuring everything from view. She’s just mustering the breath to scream for help when the second man speaks, his words stilling her intake of air.

_“Where’s your big-shot boyfriend?”_ he growls, his tone both mocking and frightening to her at the same time, making her blood run cold.

_“I don’t know who you’re talking about,”_ Lucia replies, tilting her chin up at him and meeting his eyes defiantly, her voice stronger than before as her mind reels with what they could possibly want with Norman. _“I think you have me confused with somebody else and I’d appreciate it if you got the hell out of my way.”_

_“Don’t try and bullshit us, Lucia,”_ comes the voice from the first man, now behind her, and although she feels like she’s been doused with iced water at the use of her name, she doesn’t turn this time, sensing that the man in front of her is far more dangerous than his counterpart. He leans into her personal space, close enough that she can see his eyes are a muddy brown color, flecked with a sickly-looking yellow and his nose is raised with a bump across the bridge as though it had once been broken and never healed properly. She doesn’t flinch, fingers dug tight into the bags she’s carrying, as he dips his head alongside hers and inhales deeply.

_“I can smell that filthy cur’s scent all over you, Lucia. He may as well have pissed on you and claimed you as his,”_ he intones menacingly, his breath like fire on the chilled skin of her cheek and she feels her stomach clench sickeningly. As he pulls back from her, his eyes meet hers and this time she does step back, the grocery bags slipping from her hands to burst open on the wet ground as she stares into the blazing yellow eyes that are levelled at her from under his thickened brow.

_“What the…”_ she starts to say, her mind struggling to comprehend what her eyes are showing her but she never gets to finish that thought as she feels a sharp prick of pain against her neck and then nothing but the sensation of sinking into darkness.


	12. Chapter 12

Norman unlocks the door to the penthouse, throwing his keys onto the table by the door and dropping his backpack to the floor to greet an overly enthusiastic Beegle who launches himself at him the second he walks in.

_“Hey boy,”_ he says, ruffling the dogs ears before looking up. _“Where’s your mama, huh?”_

To his surprise the apartment is in darkness and he moves in, flicking on lights as he calls Lucia’s name. A quick look in all the rooms reveals she’s nowhere in sight but he discovers the open recipe book in the kitchen alongside the neatly laid out utensils and comes to the conclusion that she must have gone out to the store. He debates going out to meet her then decides against it, just in case she’s gone further afield than just the local deli. He takes a peek at the recipe she’s planning on making and pulls a bottle of wine from the rack that’s been fully stocked ever since Lucia came into his life, smiling to himself as he thinks of her repeated attempts to educate him on the different nuances of each wine, only to throw her hands up in frustration when he fails to grasp anything more than the most basic concepts. What he can’t tell her is that his hyper-sensitive olfactory system can actually pull too much information from each bottle she opens and that’s what confuses him, his brain overloading on the inconsequential scents and drowning out the pertinent ones.

As he uncorks the bottle to let it breathe, he flips on the answering machine and listens to the few messages that are waiting for him, grinning as Mingus’ exuberant voice bursts from the speaker, his words tripping over themselves as he raves about the latest place he’s visited with his mother. Norman does a mental tally of how long his son has been gone and his heart sinks as he realizes he’s barely half-way through their time apart. He leans against the counter, playing the message over, drinking in every last breath of enthusiasm radiating from his son’s tone when his eyes catch sight of the corner of the canvas leaning against the other side of the island and his curiosity gets the better of him.

There’s a neat pile of folded bubble-wrap and string on the floor next to it and he can picture her carefully unwrapping it until all that’s standing between him and her latest creation is a thin layer of brown paper. As he gets closer he can see there’s something written in her flowing script on the paper’s surface.

_“Norman, now you can look!”_ he reads aloud, lips curving into a smile. _“This one is for you, I hope you like it. Thank you for the inspiration.”_

He feels his heart swell with his love for her and his fingers twitch in his eagerness to tear off that wrapper and reveal the secret she’s been working on for so long. He wonders briefly if he should wait for her to get back but his desire to see it is eating a hole in him and she’s practically engraved it with an invitation to open it, he thinks, so he only hesitates a brief moment before tearing away the paper, letting it flutter to the floor in shreds as he unveils her gift to him. Once the canvas is exposed, he sinks to the floor in front of it, knees drawn up to his chest with his arms wrapped tightly around them as he contemplates her work.

He is the central figure, standing with his back to the viewer, half-turned at the waist to look back over his shoulder directly into the viewer’s eyes. He is naked from the waist up, his lower half clad in a pair of worn jeans slung low on his hips, ripped and splotched in places with a dark stain that he instinctively knows is blood. His feet are bare, the frayed bottoms of his jeans skimming his heels. His eyes travel up, following the painted contours of his torso, every line and blemish, every scar and wrinkle rendered in perfect detail and he knows now why it took her so long to complete. When she had first started it, just days after they’d met, she hadn’t known his body as intimately as she did now and he wonders what direction the painting would have taken had they not become lovers. His gaze skims the profile of his face and he thinks that she’s painted him with a quiet strength he rarely sees in himself but that she obviously has.

He widens his view, taking in the picture as a whole now, knowing that his image is just a single part in the grander scheme. In her vision of him the skin on his back is bare and unadorned, devoid of the ink that has claimed his body for most of his adult life. His demons are not gone however. No longer trapped by the confines of his flesh, they stand flanking him, their height greater than his, each with one taloned wing raised, the tips touching behind him. Norman stares hard at them for a long time, taking in the sleek, leathery look of their midnight skin, the wickedly sharp-looking claws that sprout from their elongated fingers as they loom menacingly over him. As with all of Lucia’s works, the longer he stares, the more that’s revealed to him. He realizes that their stance is not threatening after all, in fact the way that their wing tips touch behind him and the others arc down to curl around their bodies suggests more of a protective embrace, as if they are shielding him from harm. The slight tilt to their heads shows him not malicious intent as it would first appear but instead a sign of respect, enforced by the looks of benevolence and deference painted on both their faces.

He huffs out a sigh of amazement at her ability to turn his perceptions inside out and then smiles to himself as he catches sight of an element so far unnoticed in his perusal. There, mostly hidden by his hair, is another tiny demon, peeking out between the strands it has wrapped in its minute fists, its tongue firmly stuck out at the unsuspecting viewer and Norman knows, without a doubt, that this impish little guy has migrated from the inside of his bicep up to its current position. He shakes his head in amusement, hugging his knees tighter to him in delight, a dozen questions forming in his brain that he can’t wait to ask Lucia.

He pulls out his cell phone from his pocket, shocked to see that it’s been just over an hour since he got home, time fading from existence while he was engrossed in her work. Pushing himself up from the floor, he glances out of the window at the dark, snow-filled sky, a frown crossing his features as the first cold fingers of concern worm their way into his gut. He jabs hastily at his phone, scrolling to her number and waiting for it to connect, wordlessly urging it to hurry. As it starts to ring, he paces back and forth in front of the terrace window, telling himself that she probably didn’t find what she wanted at the corner store so she’d gone looking elsewhere. With each unanswered ring tightening the icy fingers which are now clenching at his stomach, his body literally jerks with relief when she finally picks up. His joy is short-lived however, as he realizes it’s not her after all but just her recorded message, her cheery tone touched by the slight lilt of her accent seeming to mock him in his desperation to talk to her. He leaves her a brief message and then hangs up, growling in frustration as he wonders what to do next. There’s always the chance that he’s overreacting, he tells himself, that she just can’t reach her phone, maybe her hands are full or she’s trying to hail a cab but his instinct is telling him otherwise.

Unbidden, the image of her from the nightmare that’s been haunting him since they met floods his mind and he feels an ache ripening around his heart. Unable to just stay put and do nothing to find her, Norman grabs his keys and jacket and heads down to the lobby where he questions the doorman on duty who informs him that Lucia left the building well over three hours before, just as he was coming on shift, but he had no idea where she was headed. He thanks the man, the fear gripping his body becoming an almost overwhelming pain deep inside of him that he has to fight to push down as he exits the building into the biting cold. He sets off at a rapid pace towards the deli, thinking it’s as good a place as any to start looking, knowing that it’s a futile endeavor to think he could track her scent in the snow but trying all the same.

He’s barely half-way there when his phone buzzes to life in his hand, the Hendrix he programmed in as her ringtone blaring in the still night air. He slides his thumb across the screen to unlock it, a picture of her smiling face greeting him from the display, and thrusts the phone against his ear.

_“Baby, where are you?”_ he asks, hearing the relief flooding his tone. _“You had me worried.”_

_“Well ain’t that sweet,”_ comes a deep voice from the other end and Norman feels like his limbs have turned to water.

_“Where is she?”_ he demands, his voice low and dangerous, betraying none of the sickening fear that’s pulling at his insides.

_“Calm down, we didn’t hurt a hair on your precious mate’s head,”_ says the voice and something familiar about it tugs at Norman’s memories bringing forth another layer of unease to wrap around him. _“Not yet anyways, maybe just ruffled her up a little but nothing she couldn’t handle.”_

The voice dissolves into a gruff laugh and then Norman can hear it – the sound of Lucia’s muffled grunts as though somebody has a hand clamped firmly over her mouth. His world stills, his surroundings fading away as the icy ball of fear in his gut is burned away by a white-hot flame of rage with an obsidian center, painting his vision a deep blood red.

_“What do you want?”_ he asks, calmly, not letting any of the hatred that’s simmering beneath his surface to bleed into his voice.

_“She’s quite the feisty one, your lady, you should be proud,”_ comes the reply in a mocking tone, ignoring the question and only fueling the fire inside Norman even more.

_“What do you want?”_ Norman repeats.

_“I want you and I to finish the conversation we started back in the woods, the one where I was supposed to kill you and you were supposed to stay dead.”_

Norman grits his teeth, his hunch confirmed that this is the pack of Strays from Vermont.

_“Where?”_ he growls and is given an address in Brooklyn in reply. _“I’m on my way.”_

_“You know the drill… you come alone or I’ll be picking my teeth with your lady’s bones come supper time. Oh, and you might want to hurry, pretty boy, my boys can be awfully bad-mannered when they’re horny.”_

_“You’re all going to die,”_ Norman breathes into the phone, disconnecting it before he hears a reply and stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket.

He knows the address they’ve given him, not the specific building but the vicinity it’s in, a disused industrial area close to the river. A small knot of warehouses and abandoned scrapyards are ringed by rundown tenements and boarded-up houses, the area earmarked for a development that never came to be. The buildings have fallen deeper into disrepair over the years as the legalities of the land rights are volleyed back and forth between a group of apathetic lawyers, leaving the area open to various elements of the city’s lowlife until it was picked clean of anything that had any worth. Norman has visited the area on occasion, the decrepit buildings unappealing to even the hardiest of the homeless, the lack of population giving him ample opportunity to stretch his wolfen side in relative seclusion, close enough to the river that he could even let loose for a run occasionally.

For now he’s on his human feet, wishing desperately that he could just Shift and race full out for his destination but he knows that’s out of the question as is taking a cab across the river. Instead he pushes his human form to its limits, drawing on his latent strength as his feet fly over the snow and slush covered streets, slipping occasionally but never going down. The frigid air burns in his lungs but he doesn’t slow his pace for an instant, one clear thought fueling his body as he races through the night – Lucia. He had a feeling he hadn’t seen the last of these Strays, that their previous encounter was probably going to come back to bite him in the ass but, in his worst nightmares, he’d never dreamed that they would involve her in their fight with him.

The streets are practically deserted as he heads out towards the river, keeping to the back alleys where he can, passing dark, silent offices that gradually turn to storage units and warehouses the further he gets. He doesn’t make a sound, the thick snow absorbing his footfalls and sizzling against his skin where it touches him, plastering his hair to his head and soaking into his denim jacket. As he speeds silently on, his mind turns to the Strays and their hatred of him. The rivalry is old and deep – you’re either born to this life, a hereditary, or you have it gifted to you. That’s one of the reasons they hate him to his core, he was given something they see as their own, a privilege that shouldn’t be shared with anyone not descended from the ancient bloodlines. The problem is that, throughout the ages, those lines have become blurred, family histories intertwining until all but a few can claim themselves as truly descended from the Primals.

The bulk of their antipathy toward him however, stems from the fact that he is breaking the cardinal rule of their kind – secrecy above all else – that, by living his life under a spotlight, he risks exposing their entire race. According to the Strays philosophy, he should be living his life as their ancestors did, part of a pack, never settling in one place for too long, not letting themselves become tied to the mundane necessities of human existence. Strays survive by taking what they want, either by stealth or by force, not afraid to leave death in their wake when they deem it necessary and sometimes even when it’s not. Norman’s heard tales of packs that stalk and hunt humans just for sport if the urge takes them. In his opinion these packs run more of a risk of exposure than he or Sean ever could, the irony of their actions are not lost on him. If the group he’s heading towards now had succeeded in killing him after their first encounter then that would have surely brought a beacon of light shining in their direction. His death would not have gone unnoticed and the investigation would have risked exposing them far more than his lifestyle is likely to.

Luckily the packs of Strays are few and far between, his encounters with them dwindling as the years have passed. He knows that there are others of his kind in the city, just living a normal 9-5 life, he’ll see them sometimes, pass them on the street or catch their scent on the subway, occasionally making eye contact, each acknowledging the other but nothing more than that. And, to him, that’s the way it should be, live and let live. He doesn’t believe anybody has the right to tell him what to do with his life and his gift any more than he has that right over them. In his eyes, he’s been given something amazing, something that has enriched his life in ways he could never have imagined but he doesn’t understand why he should have to give up who he is as the price for that gift. He’s not stupid, he knows that his life is under a media microscope and his current job has brought more than its fair share of trips to the hospital but, unless he’s transforming into a ravening beast in the middle of Times Square, then he appears as normal as the next person.

Maybe what infuriates them even more is the fact that Sean _is_ a hereditary, his lineage easily traced to the first among their kind, and he should be, by rights, a pack leader sworn to uphold their outdated codes but instead he thumbs his nose at them, openly mocking their beliefs when he gets a chance. His great-great grandfather sullied the name of his bloodline long before Sean was born by turning his best friend, much in the same way as Sean had turned Norman. At first the other packs shunned him, ostracizing him from their inner circles, but gradually he found others like himself, men and women who didn’t want to live on the outskirts of society, who wanted relatively normal lives where they could enjoy the benefits of their inheritance without living as criminals. By the time Sean was born, the different factions of his species had long been fighting over the division his bloodline had been pivotal in creating.

Norman’s thoughts are interrupted as he finds himself approaching the Manhattan Bridge, his pace slowing for an instant as he contemplates getting across. He knows there’s no other choice, it’s not like he can swim the East River but he also can’t afford to be seen out here which is the very reason he didn’t take a cab across the river in the first place. If things go down the way he’s expecting, the last thing he’ll need is some eagle-eyed member of the public remembering they saw him anywhere in the area. He takes a moment to flip up the hood of the sweatshirt he’s wearing under his jacket, drawing the wet material down low over his eyes and thanking Mother Nature for the winter storm she’s provided him with as additional cover. He makes his way onto the narrow walkway and speeds up again. The occasional car passes on the road overhead but he has the walkway to himself and he chances a full out run, pushing himself even harder as he crosses the mile long length in mere minutes.

Once off of the bridge and back on solid ground, Norman suddenly has a flash of inspiration and ducks against the side of a nearby building to shelter from the snow while he pulls out his cellphone. He rapidly finds the number he wants in his contacts then curses under his breath as it connects to an answering service. He leaves a terse message and then stuffs the phone back into his pocket and continues on. The landscape around him is changing now, the further away from the bridge he goes, abandoned lots appearing more frequently between the low-rent housing. Just as the buildings are becoming more rundown and before he reaches the truly industrial part of the neighborhood, he turns onto the street he’s looking for, the buildings here a mix of squat apartment blocks and two-story houses.

The one he wants is at the far end of the dead-end street, naturally and he wonders for a moment if he should try to sneak in the back way, dismissing the idea as soon as it forms. If they don’t already have someone on lookout for him, they’d sure as hell know he was there the second he steps foot in the place so he just keeps on his current path and walks right up to the front door only to find it boarded and nailed shut. Huffing in impatience, he vaults the chain-link fence at the side of the house and cautiously approaches the back door, taking note of the light shining through the boards on the back windows and wondering absent-mindedly how they managed to get the electricity back on. He’s reaching to open the door when he senses somebody behind him and stiffens in place, his body tensing for an attack.

 


	13. Chapter 13

_“Nice and easy,”_ comes a young male voice from close to his ear, hands roughly patting at his clothing searching, he assumes, for a weapon and he feels insulted that they would even consider that he might be carrying one.

_“We’re good,”_ says the voice, a little louder, moving back behind him as the door swings open.

After a small shove to the small of his back, he moves forward into the harsh fluorescent glare of a dirty, disused kitchen. He blinks as his eyes adjust to the light, taking in the only furniture in the room, a small table with four chairs placed around it, the surface littered with a pile of take-out containers and beer cans which are overflowing to the floor beneath it. The stench in the room has Norman breathing shallowly through his mouth, a mixture of dirt and mold from the house itself combined with the odor of the garbage on the table and the overpowering scent of the four Strays who are now regarding him from various points around the small room. He recognizes each of their scents immediately and is glad to see that they’re two men down from the last time they met, he hopes it means they’re gone for good. He subtly sniffs the air for any additional wolf scents but all he can find are those of the four standing in front of him and then, like a physical slap to his senses that makes his head reel, he smells Lucia’s distinctive scent and his jaw clenches reflexively.

He fixes his eyes on the leader of the pack, a small smile quirking up the corner of his mouth as he notices the evidence of the broken nose he gave him the first time they met and he wonders fleetingly what happened to prevent it from healing properly.

_‘Norman Reedus,”_ the guy says, stepping forward into Norman’s personal space.

He’s a good head taller than Norman and built like a linebacker, his blond hair and blue eyes giving him a deceptively young appearance, looking like he might have just stepped off any one of a dozen college campuses but Norman knows that the reality of it is that’s he’s probably at least ten years older than any frat boy. A cursory glance at the others pegs two of them to be around the same age and the third, the one who had the bum job of waiting outside for him in the freezing snow, to be a good few years younger. Norman assumes him to be the runt of the litter, so to speak, earning his way in their pack by doing all the shitty jobs that nobody else wants to do.

_“Let her go,”_ Norman states simply, making eye contact with the man in front of him, the only person he really needs to be bothered by amongst their little group.

_“I don’t think you’re in any position to be making demands, do you?”_

_“You have me. I’m here willingly, without a fight. She’s an innocent in this, you don’t need her anymore.”_

_“But she’s such fun to have around,”_ the pack leader smirks, rubbing at his face with his palm and Norman notices that there are fresh scratches lining his cheek. _“I’m thinking that maybe she and I should get to know each other a little better.”_

Unable to stop himself, Norman lashes out, landing a right hook to the taller man’s jaw before he feels his arms being grabbed from either side and his body is restrained. The pack leader laughs in Norman’s face, massaging his jaw with one hand.

_“What do you want us to do with him, Gabe?”_ asks the man to Norman’s left, wrenching painfully on his arm.

_“Take him downstairs. No sense in delaying our lovebirds’ reunion any longer.”_

He steps aside and the two men holding Norman’s arms thrust him harshly forward, herding him to a dank-looking stairwell that leads down to the basement. At the bottom of the stairs is a small, open area that leads to a heavily-bolted door.

_“Cody, get your sorry ass down here and unlock the fucking door,”_ yells Gabe from behind Norman, his voice dripping with contempt as the youngest member of the group pushes past the others and slides back each of the bolts before stepping aside and flicking on a light-switch by the door. He heaves open the door and Lucia’s scent comes to Norman in a wave, lighting his senses on fire and his stomach churns at the thought of them keeping her locked down in this miserable hole all alone in the dark, even for just a few hours.

The thugs flanking him hustle him inside, steering him to the back wall and holding him steady while Cody fastens a heavy length of thick-linked chain securely around his throat, binding the links together with an old-fashioned, oversized padlock, the kind that opens with a key in the front. Once they’re satisfied that he’s secure, they step away from him but never further than arm’s reach and he twists his head against the weight of the chains around his neck, eyes scanning the room for Lucia, finding her standing across the space from him, her eyes shining in the dim light as they fix on his. 

_“Bring her,”_ barks Gabe and Cody scurries across the room like an obedient lap dog, grabbing Lucia’s wrist and dragging her to stand in front of Norman. The urge to touch her slams into him like a physical blow and he can feel his fingers clenching and releasing at his sides but he doesn’t make a move, just stares into her eyes, trying to convey everything he needs her to know – how sorry he is, how much he loves her, how he’s going to make all of this okay – all with a single look. He can see a dark bruise etching the skin along her jawline but apart from that he can see no other obvious injuries and he sighs minutely with relief at this small blessing. That relief is short-lived however as Gabe steps once more into Norman’s personal space.

_“You think you’re so much better than us, don’t you? With your charmed life and your fame and fortune.”_

Norman doesn’t answer, knowing it will make no difference what he says, so Gabe pulls back and unleashes a punch to his jaw, rocking his head to one side and causing Lucia to struggle against Cody’s grip on her.

_“Well ain’t that cute,”_ says Gabe sarcastically, _“your little bitch wanting to protect her man. I wonder how she’s going to feel when I do this…”_

He hauls off and punches Norman hard again in the face and then again and again before taking a step back, rubbing his knuckles with his other hand.

_“Boys,’_ he says simply and the two Strays at his sides lay into him with their fists, punishing his ribs and stomach from either side until he’s doubled over, trying to catch his breath. A hand digs roughly into his hair, yanking his head up and he sees Gabe’s fist coming at him for one more blow, ricocheting his head to the side and letting loose a spray of blood as his lip splits under the assault. Norman freezes as the drops fly in Lucia’s direction and her mouth opens in a scream, her anguished eyes staring at him from her blood-splattered face, his nightmare of the past few months turning to reality in front of him. Little had he known that Lucia would not be screaming out of fear for herself but instead for him, her green eyes shining with tears as she begs Gabe to leave him alone.

_“Oh sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to torture this filthy half-breed yet.”_

_“What do you want?”_ Lucia asks and Norman is proud to hear how steady her voice is even though he knows she’s terrified to her core. _“Money? A ransom? Is that it because I’m sure we could arra-“_

_“I don’t want his damn money,”_ Gabe scoffs. _“I want him to pay for the life that doesn’t rightfully belong to him, the one handed to him by that traitorous cur, Flanery.”_

_“I don’t know what you’re talking about,”_ Lucia says in confusion. _“What does Sean have to do with this?”_

_“She doesn’t know?”_ Gabe asks incredulously, turning back to Norman. _“She doesn’t know what you are?”_

Norman shakes his head.

_“And that’s why you should let her go,”_ he replies, spitting a mouthful of his own blood to the floor. _“She’s not involved with any of this.”_

_“Oh this is priceless,”_ gloats Gabe and the look in his eye fills Norman with a sick dread. _“Strip him, boys.”_

Norman’s heart sinks as Gabe’s two goons quickly undress him. He has a pretty good idea what’s coming next.

_“Now Shift,”_ orders Gabe, his eyes glittering with malice and amusement.

_“Come on, you have me, there’s no need for this,”_ Norman reasons, his eyes flicking to Lucia’s befuddled face and then back to Gabe’s.

_“You either Shift or I’ll let Cody here have his way with your mate while you watch. He’s taken quite a shine to her, haven’t you Cody, and between you and me, he hasn’t had much experience with the female of the species so it might take him some time to find his way around her.”_

Norman lets loose with a growl of angry frustration, knowing he’s backed into a corner and out of options.

_“Lucia,”_ he says softly, looking directly into her eyes, _“I’m sorry. Don’t be scared, baby, remember I love you.”_

_“Very touching,”_ mocks Gabe. _“Now do it.”_

He lashes out another punch to Norman’s mid-section and Norman uses the pain it brings to push his Shift into gear. He forces his body through it as fast as he can, not wanting Lucia to see any more of the gruesome transformation than she has to. He drops his front paws to the floor, standing with his head bowed in front of her, afraid to look at her face, the heavy chain biting into the flesh of his neck. Gabe claps his hands and whistles sarcastically.

_“Nice job, half-breed, very smooth.”_

Norman raises his head, muzzle wrinkling back in a snarl, his hatred pouring out of him in a long, rumbling growl.

_“So what do you think of your pretty-boy movie star now?_ Gabe asks, pulling Lucia into Norman’s line of sight with a laugh. _‘Bet you had no clue you’d been fucking such a disgusting beast all these months while he filled your pretty head with lie after lie. Look at him, look at what he is. Could you ever love a creature like that, knowing how he’s betrayed you?”_

Norman keeps very still as Lucia’s gaze meets his then travels over his form before coming back to look into his eyes. For a moment he can’t read her, his heart practically stopping in his chest, and then he sees her face change, sees the small clench of her jaw that happens when she’s made her mind up about something and she’s determined to defend her point of view. A small sliver of hope ignites in his chest as she turns away from him, looking steadily up at Gabe for a long moment before speaking.

_“What? You thought I was going to run screaming for the door?”_ she asks him, a coolness in her voice biting into her words. _“I would love him for a thousand lifetimes over, either as man or beast, before I could ever love a person like you, a coward and a bully who has to use a woman for manipulation because he’s not man enough to face someone in a fair fight. You disgust me in more ways than seeing what Norman really is ever could.”_

Gabe’s face darkens to a furious scowl, his genial demeanor suddenly gone as her scornful words hit home.

_“Bitch,”_ he seethes through gritted teeth. _“Well, let’s see how much you still love him after this. Boys, grab his head.”_

Norman backs up, ice running through his veins as he realizes what Gabe means to do but there’s nowhere for him to go, his hind quarters hitting against the solid stone behind him. The two Strays flank him, their strong hands digging into the loose flesh at the scruff of his neck just below his ears, holding his head in a vice-like grip no matter how hard he struggles. As Gabe roughly grabs Lucia and pushes her up close to him, Norman clamps his jaw shut, breathing heavily through his nose as panic washes over him. He looks up and can see every aspect of Lucia’s face with startling clarity, the green of her eyes flecked with hints of gold he doesn’t think he’s ever noticed before, the small spattering of freckles across her cheeks he loves nothing more than to kiss when they’re coming down from the high of their love-making, the tiny crease between her brows born from years of concentration on her work. As she looks down at him with such a lost expression on her face, he wishes that he’d never met her, that he’d died out there in the woods, anything rather than bring this torment into her precious life.

_“Cody!”_ yells Gabe and his faithful pup appears by his side. _“Open his mouth.”_

Cody reaches in past Lucia and closes his palm over the soft flesh of Norman’s snout, effectively cutting off his air supply. He tries furiously to dislodge Cody’s grip and break out of the others’ hold but it’s all in vain and he knows it. With a yowl of frustrated despair, his jaws part to allow him to suck in fresh air to his burning lungs and, faster than Norman can blink. Gabe has Lucia’s hand against his monstrous canines, splitting her flesh like wet paper. Norman’s sense-memory overloads as he tastes her skin against his tongue, her blood hot and sweet as it flows into his mouth, sending a barrage of images of their time together skittering across his vision.

Distantly he hears Gabe’s crowing laughter as he pulls Lucia away from Norman. With an effort, Norman pulls himself back to the present, eyes seeking her out but Gabe is blocking his way. The man leans down to whisper in his ear.

_“She’s going to hate you for the rest of her life and you know what I’m going to do? I think I’m going to keep the pair of you here and watch you suffer as she goes through her first Shift. You remember your first time, half-breed, that untold agony? Yeah, I know that you do, none of us ever forget. And if that first Shift doesn’t kill her, I’m going to sit back and watch her hatred for you grow until I can see she detests you with every fiber of her broken body. Then, I’m going to let you watch as I kill her, as slowly as I can, knowing that she’ll be blaming you for every second of her miserable existence and that she’ll die cursing your name with her last breath. After that, I’ll let you go, see if you can reclaim your charmed life then, let you serve as a lesson to the rest of your filthy kind. Stop spreading what doesn’t belong to you or suffer the consequences.”_

With a condescending pat to Norman’s head, Gabe turns and leaves the room, his pack close on his heels. As the last bolt slides home on the other side of the door, Norman huffs out a small sigh of relief and turns his attention to where Lucia is regarding him from across the room. He hesitates, not sure if he should Shift or stay as he is, and she makes the decision for him, crossing the room to drop to her knees in front of him. Cautiously, she reaches out a hand to touch his face, her fingers light against his fur as she traces the contours of his skull, a look of wonder on her face and he knows that her brain is running at a mile a minute behind her eyes. He catches the scent of her blood once more and looks down to see the open wound on her palm pulsing out a small trickle of blood. He whines softly and nudges her gently back from him with his snout, wanting her to turn away so that he can Shift. She understands his meaning as she so often does when he struggles to find the right words and changes position to turn her back on him.

Quickly he pulls forth the Shift, shrinking back into his human form, feeling the chain loosen around his neck once more as he reaches for his discarded jeans and pulls them on. He scoops up his hoodie from the floor, tearing a strip of the soft material from the bottom.

_“Lucia,”_ he says quietly, his voice coming out cracked and hoarse.

She turns back to him and he busies himself with carefully binding her hand, trying not to look too hard at the damage to her flesh rent by his own teeth.

_“When will it happen?”_ she asks, the barest quaver in her voice that stabs at his heart like a dagger.

_“It might not,”_ he replies, squeezing her uninjured hand in his. _“It doesn’t always take, I guess some people are naturally immune.”_

_“You’ve bitten me before, when we’ve…”_ she trails off, eyes turning inward for a moment before she regains her composure. _“How come I’ve never been infected before?”_

He flinches at her use of the word ‘infected’, like he’s the carrier for a deadly disease, something unclean to be avoided at all costs.

_“It doesn’t work like that, only when we’re in our other form. It’s something secreted in our saliva in that state, the rest of the time it’s perfectly harmless.”_

_“And if it does take, how long until I-I...?”_

_“Anywhere from hours to days, never usually longer than a week. If it hasn’t happened by then, it’s most likely not going to.”_

_“Will it hurt?”_ she whispers and tears spring to his eyes but he blinks them away.

_“Yes,”_ he replies simply, knowing it will do no good to sugarcoat the truth for her, that she’ll see immediately if he lies anyway. _“But there are things you can do, techniques that help make it more bearable. I just have to get us out of here and get you someplace safe.”_

_“How?”_ she asks with a tinge of despair in her voice and he realizes he has no answer for her.


	14. Chapter 14

Norman’s eyes search the room for something, anything that might help them. He stands, yanking on the chain holding him, testing how securely it’s bolted to the wall, his muscles bulging and straining but it’s no good. The house above may be in a state of disrepair but its foundations are solid stone, built to last, and the hardware holding him is newly installed, set deep into that stone. With a grunt he lets it go, wishing Sean was there, knowing he’d already have an elaborate plan in mind for their great escape. He leans back against the cold stone wall, clearing his mind a little and scanning the room once more, not letting himself be distracted by Lucia’s pale, blood-spattered face looking intently up at him.

The basement is pretty sparse, there’s no furniture apart from an old storage rack bolted to the wall in one corner and a broken chair laying on the floor. Norman stares at its broken pieces, ears catching the sound of murmured voices and clinking bottles drifting down through the thick stone above them. It seems the pack are celebrating, probably congratulating themselves on teaching him a lesson, he thinks, and this knowledge re-ignites the red haze of anger that’s been simmering in his gut since this all began.

_“Lucia, I need you to help me. Can you do that?’_

She nods feebly and he steels his heart. He wants nothing more than to take her in his arms to soothe her fear, tell her everything is going to be okay, that he’s going to get her out of here even if he has to die to do it. But he can’t. There’s just no time and he can see her teetering on the edge of panic, smell the fear roiling off her.

_“Okay,”_ he says, taking her by the arm and leading her towards the door, playing his chain out behind him until it’s almost taut.

_“Now get on the floor,”_ he instructs and she complies without question, lying flat at his feet. He hands her a piece of the shattered chair, its end broken into a wickedly sharp point. “ _Here, tuck this under you, this side, away from the door and keep one hand on it.”_

She secretes the make-shift weapon under her back, elbow bent to keep her fingers wrapped around its end.

_“When I tell you, I want you to scream, Lucia, scream long and loud until I tell you to stop. I want to get at least one of those bastards down here, preferably that runt Cody. When we do, I want you to play dead, just stay down and let me take care of it, you understand?”_

She nods again and he can hear the sound of her heartbeat slowing as she takes a few steadying breaths and he knows it’s begun, her body already beginning to make subtle changes. Swallowing the acid bile that’s risen in his throat, he checks the slack on his chain one more time then quickly tugs off his jeans and kneels beside her.

_“I’m sorry,”_ he says, bringing forth the Shift just enough to blur his features, thickening his brow a little and elongating his teeth so that he can tear a gash into the flesh of his forearm. Lucia flinches as the first hot spatters touch her skin but she doesn’t recoil as he drips it across her neck and chest, pooling it at the base of her throat.

_“Now scream,”_ he tells her and she lets rip with a sound that pierces his heart to its core, fear and despair resonating out from her.

It only takes a moment before he hears somebody coming down the stairs and the sound of the bolts being slid back. He raises his finger to his lips and Lucia ends her scream with a final strangled cry. As the door opens, he buries his face into her neck, smearing his own blood around his mouth and throat as he tilts her body towards him.

_“What the fuck did you do?”_ comes Cody’s surprised voice.

Norman looks up, jaws wide in a snarl, blood dripping from his chin, and is gratified to see they’ve only sent the youngest down to check on the situation, much as he suspected they would.

_“Get off of her,”_ Cody yells, jumping forward to kick Norman away from Lucia, stepping over her prone form.

Norman leaps to his feet to face off with Cody, wiping the gore from his face with the back of his hand.

_“I’d rather she was dead now than have to suffer with you filthy mutts,”_ he spits, pulling the wolf back inside and staring into Cody’s eyes.

Behind him, Norman can see Lucia rising silently from the floor in his peripheral vision but he doesn’t as much as blink in her direction, keeping his gaze firmly on Cody.

_“You’re insane,”_ splutters the young man. _“Gabe is going to tear you to shreds for this.”_

_“Hey, puppy, wanna play fetch?”_ says Lucia suddenly from behind him and, as he spins in her direction, she lashes out at him with the jagged piece of wood she has clutched in her fist.

He automatically steps back from her, directly into Norman’s outstretched hands and with one deft move he grabs Cody’s head and twists, hearing the sickening snap of bone as he breaks his neck. Lucia’s hand flies to her mouth, her eyes wide over the top as he eases the body to the floor and quickly searches for the key to the lock holding his chain. When he finds it, he holds it out to Lucia and she hesitates for just a fraction before taking it from his fingers and moving behind him. It takes three attempts for her shaking hands to be able to get the key in and turn it but finally the oppressive weight around his neck is gone and he lays the heavy chain down as silently as he can. From above he can still hear the others talking loudly over one another, their juvenile banter setting his teeth on edge. Quickly he takes Lucia’s wrist, pulling her forward to look at him.

_“You’re going to stay here,”_ he tells her, watching her eyes widen impossibly further as she starts to shake her head, clutching at his arm. _“Lucia, yes. I have to go do this and I can’t if you’re with me. Do you understand?”_

She nods miserably, her hand clenching around his forearm momentarily before she releases him and steps back.

_“Okay, now don’t move no matter what you hear. I’ll be back for you, I swear.”_

He wants to reassure her more, has a hundred things he needs to say to her but he’s suddenly become aware of an end to the conversation coming from above them and he knows he only has a small window of time to push his advantage. Without looking back, he races from the room, body changing as he moves. His Shift is barely half complete before he encounters the first of them coming down the stairs to check on their buddy. He has the lower ground but that doesn’t stop him barreling forward to plunge his hands, now equipped with a lethal set of claws, into the guy’s midriff and toss him down the last few stairs. With a roar, Norman is on him, teeth snapping and claws slashing in a fury-filled berserker rage as his opponent thrashes feebly beneath him, obviously trying to call forth his own Shift but unable to get a grip on himself long enough under Norman’s brutal assault.

Killing Cody was quick and easy, a means to an end, but now he wants the others to suffer for what they’ve done. The echo of Lucia’s scream resonates in his mind as he tears into the flesh beneath him, ripping with his teeth at the guy’s jugular, feeling the hot blood bathe his face, the acrid tang inflaming the beast beneath his surface until he feels the life slip out of the body under him and he pushes up away from it. He whirls as he hears more footsteps behind him and meets the horrified gazes of both Gabe and the last remaining Stray. He bares his teeth at them, letting them see the rage on his features, making them understand that they’ve pushed him too far and they no longer have the safety in numbers.

As one, they turn and hightail it back up the stairs, Norman only a few paces behind. As he crashes into the abandoned kitchen he catches a fleeting glimpse of a back disappearing through the open door to outside. Moving to follow, he’s suddenly bent double as a crippling blow comes from beside him, driving him into the flimsy table which shatters under his weight, scattering chairs and trash around it as he follows it to the floor. He rolls, attempting to regain his footing but another blow to the back of his neck momentarily stuns him. He shakes his head, rising to his knees, his ears ringing as he turns to see Gabe dropping to all fours as the final snap of his Shift takes hold. He doesn’t attack however, just sits back on his haunches, his tongue lolling between his oversized canines and Norman realizes that he’s waiting for him to complete his Shift too.

He almost laughs at Gabe’s arrogance, he’s obviously so confident that he can beat Norman in his other form that he’s willing to let an easy kill pass. With a surge of control, Norman brings forth his Shift the rest of the way until he’s seeing Gabe eye to eye, a low growl emanating from both of them as they warily circle each other in the confined space. Norman bides his time, letting Gabe get worked up enough to make the first move, knowing his over-confidence is his weakness. Sure enough, with an impatient click of his jaws, Gabe launches himself across the kitchen to try and take Norman down but Norman easily avoids him, twisting his head to rake his teeth along Gabe’s shoulder and draw first blood. Gabe yelps in pain and bites at Norman’s flank, coming away with nothing except a muzzle full of fur. They circle once more and then Gabe tries a different tactic, launching himself forward again but this time lowering his body at the last second to clamp his jaws firmly around Norman’s hind leg, crushing the bone with his teeth.

Norman snarls, moving in a blur of speed to sink his teeth into Gabe’s ear, tearing at the vulnerable flesh until he loosens his hold on Norman’s leg and shakes his head to free himself. He backs off a step, blood pouring from his mangled scalp and Norman sits down, casually licking around his muzzle until he can see the anger building in Gabe’s eyes and he tenses himself for the attack that’s about to come. With a small howl, Gabe throws his full weight in Norman’s direction, relying now on brute strength rather than any sort of finesse. That’s fine by Norman, he’s been sparring with Sean since the day they met, knows every trick in the book to use a larger opponent’s size against them. He lets Gabe roll him, using his momentum to come out on top, back feet kicking into Gabe’s soft belly, claws gouging through his fur to split his flesh.

Gabe yowls in pain once more and something changes in the atmosphere of the room, like a spark igniting, until they’re nothing but a writhing mass of teeth and claws. Norman shuts off the human part of his brain, letting his animal instincts take over, one goal alone dictating his actions – protect his mate at all costs. He may not have the bulk of the other guy but Norman is fast, his body in peak condition and, most importantly, he has control. No matter how hard Gabe turns and twists, he just can’t land anything close to a killing blow on Norman and it doesn’t take long for his impatience to cause him to make a fatal mistake, exposing the weakness of his throat for just an instant. That split-second opening is all Norman needs and he sinks his fangs into the tender flesh beneath Gabe’s jaw, forcing him to the floor with a bone-crunching thud.

Gabe immediately begins whimpering, his body going deathly still in Norman’s grip, the wolfen equivalent of begging for his life. Norman quells the beast inside of himself, never loosening his hold, listening to Gabe’s inhuman pleas for mercy, smelling the fear coming off him in stinking waves. He thinks of Lucia waiting for him downstairs, of what they’ve done to her, what they’ve stolen from her life and, with one sharp jerk of his head, he rips out Gabe’s throat, silencing his pleas to a last blood-filled gurgle. Norman laps at the blood flowing across his snout, reveling in the hot, salty taste as he drinks it down, a sense of justice filling him with every swallow.

A noise behind him startles him and he flinches away from the dead body at his feet, not wanting Lucia to see him like this. When he turns, he’s surprised to see it isn’t her but instead, coming in through the open back door are two men, one the last pack member that fled the house and the other, who is holding a gun to the former’s head, a familiar face.

_“Holy fuck, Reedus, what did you fucking do now?”_ the guy asks, taking in the broken kitchen and the bloodied corpse on the floor.

Norman growls low in his throat, eyes fixed firmly on the other pack member and his friend laughs.

_“Caught this one outside, fleeing the premises as we cops like to say, like his tail was on fire. He gave me a little run but we all know I’m the alpha male in these parts, no matter what body I’m in, so I soon caught up to him. Figured he had something to do with that cryptic message you left me so I thought it best if I get him back to you. He one of yours?”_

Norman pulls his lips back from his teeth, making his opinion of the Stray abundantly clear.

_“O-kay,”_ says his friend, _“I hear ya, buddy. So what do you want me to do with him?”_

Norman takes his eyes from the Stray who’s shifting nervously from foot to foot, his eyes darting wildly around the room for a means of escape, and fixes the man behind him with a hard stare.

_“Okay, okay, I get it,”_ his friend says, raising his hands in the air and backing quickly away from the quivering guy in front of him.

Too fast to track, Norman is across the room, front paws planted firmly on the pack member’s chest as he knocks him to the floor and follows him down. The guy struggles under him, his fingers coming up to sink into the thick fur covering Norman’s throat but it’s futile and he knows it. Letting his arms drop limply to his sides, he turns his head, tilting his chin up to expose his throat, a clear sign of submission to an opposing foe but Norman shows him no mercy, parting his flesh like butter with his fangs, holding him down and letting his life-blood ebb away until his movements still and his eyes glaze away to nothing. Norman steps away, claws clicking on the worn linoleum floor, and pulls himself upright into his human form.

_“Jake,”_ he says in greeting as soon as his vocal chords can form the words.

_“Hey,”_ Jake replies with a grim smile, _“want to clue me in on what the fuck just happened here?”_

_“In a minute, there’s somebody I have to check on,”_ Norman answers, heading for the basement stairs.

_“Dude… pants!”_ he hears Jake yelling after him but modesty is the furthest thing from his mind right now.

He leaps from halfway down the stairs, landing swiftly and racing into the room where he was held.

_“Lucia,”_ he calls urgently as his eyes scan the apparently empty room and his heart thumps in his chest as he spots her, wedged down between the wall and the storage rack in the corner. As he approaches her, he sees that she is staring intently at the back of her hand and, even in the dim light of the basement, he can see the bumps of distended bone making ridges under her skin. She doesn’t acknowledge him until he kneels in front of her, covering her hand with his and smoothing her skin with his thumbs until he feels the bones receding into their normal form. He sees her eyes darken as she takes in his appearance and he can only imagine how he must look to her, he can feel the blood matting his hair and leaving sticky, tight patches across his bruised skin.

For a second his mind flashes to the posters behind her desk in the cabin, the glossy depictions of the snarling, impossibly handsome, half-man half-beast with blazing yellow eyes and a mouth full of shiny, sharp teeth and he wonders if that’s how she saw him earlier. Did she perceive him as nothing more than a ravening beast, something less than human, to be feared and reviled for what he’s allowed to happen to her? The thought chills the heat of battle from his soul and leaves a feeling of sick dread in its place. Straightening up, he pulls on his filthy clothes from the floor and, not meeting her eyes, he takes her hands and lifts her up, leading her silently from the room.


	15. Chapter 15

Lucia lets Norman lead her from the basement, his arm almost painfully tight around her shoulders as he steers her around Cody’s lifeless body in the center of the room. He turns her head to his chest as they enter the hallway, obviously trying to stop her seeing the carnage on the floor there but it’s too late as her mind absorbs the image of the eviscerated carcass pooled in its own blood that’s laying at the bottom of the stairs. As they climb up to the lighted room above, the coppery scent of blood grows even thicker on the air until Lucia can almost taste it, horrified to find that the smell is causing her to salivate just a little.  She scrubs nervously at her mouth, blinking in the bright light of the kitchen and then jumps when she realizes they’re not alone.

_“It’s okay,”_ says Norman quickly, his grip on her the only thing that’s stopping her from bolting for the open door and disappearing into the night, _“he’s an old friend. Lucia, this is Jake.”_

_“Hey, less of the old,”_ replies Jake with mock indignation, smiling at Lucia. He steps toward her and she finds herself staring into another pair of the bluest eyes she’s ever seen, wondering absently if it’s a wolf trait that she doesn’t know about and then grimacing as she realizes that she doesn’t have the first clue about any of their traits. Jake reaches out, slowly and cautiously, putting Lucia in mind of someone approaching a skittish animal and takes her hand in his, the warmth of his skin blending into hers and she becomes aware of the fact that she can smell him, tune into his distinctive scent from all the others in the room. _“Hi Lucia. Jake Wolfe at your service. I’d say pleased to meet you but under the circumstances I’m guessing you’d rather be anywhere than here with me right now.”_

_“Wolfe? Are you serious?”_ Lucia asks, her brain latching onto the most seemingly inconsequential thing given the situation she’s in.

Jake squeezes her fingers and gives a low chuckle that she find surprisingly reassuring before releasing her hand.

_“So, what’s the plan?’_ he says, turning his attention back to Norman but before he gets an answer, Lucia suddenly doubles over, pain ripping through her abdomen that has her dropping to her knees on the bloodied floor. Norman has her in an instant, lifting her into his arms as she clings to his neck and bites the inside of her mouth to stop from screaming.

_“We need a car,”_ he practically yells at Jake and Lucia can hear the fear buried in his voice and she knows it’s for her.

_“Down the block, tank’s full,”_ says Jake, handing Norman his keys and then ushering them out of the door when Norman doesn’t move. _“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of this. I’ve got your back.”_

_“Thank you, brother, I owe you.”_

_“You always do.”_

_“Call Sean for me,”_ Norman throws back over his shoulder as he exits the house, pulling Lucia’s body closer to him protecting her a little from the still falling snow. _“Tell him I’m coming to Highland.”_

_“You got it,”_ Lucia hears Jake call after them as Norman carries her effortlessly across the yard, putting her down only to break the lock on the gate at the side of the house with a well-placed kick.

_“I can walk,”_ she tells him, fending off his hands when he tries to lift her again. _“The pain’s going.”_

He eyes her warily but doesn’t argue, just takes her hand and leads her quickly but silently down the snow-filled street, the thick drifts soon soaking her jeans and making her feet feel like lead weights as she pushes through to the car. Norman fusses around her, making sure she’s securely inside before he comes around to climb in the driver’s seat, turning the heating to full and pulling cautiously away from the curb as the tires slip a little before gaining traction. Lucia curls into her seat, turning her face to the window as the car makes its way slowly out of the dead end and wends its way back to the bridge, Norman gradually increasing speed as the streets get a little clearer once they pass back onto the main thoroughfare. He doesn’t speak to her, just concentrates on keeping the car on the road and Lucia is grateful for that, she has no idea where to even start a conversation with him.

Her whole body aches, her muscles tense and almost vibrating from the copious amounts of adrenalin that’s been pumped through her system in the past few hours. Hours! It doesn’t seem possible that so much can have happened to her in just one day but a quick glance at the clock on the dashboard confirms to Lucia that not only is it in fact the same day but there are still another two hours to go until midnight. She tries to wrap her mind around this new tidbit of information, casting her mind back to her encounter with the pack on the street that afternoon, an event which already seems like a distant memory to her, something that she saw in a movie maybe or that she heard about from somebody else. Certainly, being kidnapped by a group of psychopaths who kept her locked in a dark basement while they took turns taunting her about what they were going to do with her boyfriend while she watched, couldn’t have happened to her, could it?

Lucia can feel herself becoming less lucid, the lights on the highway swimming in her vision as she tries and fails to make sense of what’s happened to her. She feels as though she’s taken a sideways step and found herself in another world, one that appears to be her own on the surface but when she delves deeper she finds that it’s actually populated with monsters masquerading as humans and heroes hiding behind wolf masks. “ _Can any of this be real?”_ she asks herself. Isn’t that what she told to Norman the first time she introduced him to her art, that she would be more likely to believe in such creatures if she were to meet one than the ones created by her own fevered imagination? Now that the veil has been lifted from her eyes so to speak, is she going to be a hypocrite and explain away what happened with logic and lies, deny what she’s seen to be true, that these… _“Say it,”_ her mind whispers and the word rolls through her brain like a freight train full of baggage: Werewolves. Is she really going to deny their existence, that she’s most likely going to be one of them pretty soon, that the man she’s been sharing her life with has been one all along?

Lucia thinks on the words Gabe used to taunt Norman, telling her how she’s been betrayed by the man she loved and she searches her feelings to see if it’s true. Does she feel betrayed by him? Weren’t the clues there all along but she was just too naïve to question them, too blinded by her love to do anything but brush aside her doubts as nonsense. She can’t deny that there’s a part of her that does feel hurt by his duplicitousness but the larger part of her understands his obvious need for secrecy. Knowing how hard he struggled with telling her who he was, she knows that this secret must have been eating him alive. She wonders how, if ever, he would have eventually told her if the decision had not been wrenched from his hands.

_“Hi honey, nice painting. Oh by the way once a month I like to sprout fur and fangs and go outside to howl at the moon. What’s for dinner?”_

Lucia giggles to herself then realizes she must have done it out loud as she feels Norman’s concerned gaze turned in her direction. She holds her breath, willing him not to speak and, after a few seconds, he returns his attention to the road ahead and Lucia exhales slowly. She tries to corral her racing thoughts but it’s impossible, her brain is on sensory overload and it doesn’t take long for a deep, throbbing ache to start at the base of her skull. Closing her eyes, she sinks further into her seat, her last thought as she sinks into an uncomfortable doze is that she has no idea where they’re going. She dimly recalls Norman mentioning a name to Jake, something beginning with ‘H’, she thinks but she can’t pull it from her frazzled mind. _“Maybe he’s taking me home,”_ she thinks and loses herself in the comfort of that thought as her body succumbs to the stress the day has put on it and she falls into a fitful sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

She rises gradually back to a conscious state, her eyes slowly blinking open and wonders why she’s in the car but the answer eludes her, dancing just on the edge of her sleep-fogged brain. Her eyes fall on Norman’s face, his features shadowed in the dim light of the car’s interior, and as she studies his profile, his concentration intent on the road before him, she thinks that he looks worried and she vaguely knows that it has something to do with her but her mind still can’t make the connection. The world outside the windows is still in darkness but Lucia can almost feel the dawn approaching and a check of the clock tells her that it’s a little after 5:00am. She sits up a little straighter, stretching out the kinks in her neck and shoulders, feeling a familiar ache of hunger in the pit of her stomach and Norman throws a glance her way.

_“Hey,”_ he says softly.

_“Hey yourself,”_ she replies, her mouth feeling like it’s stuffed with cotton wool.

_“How are you feeling?”_ he asks, glancing her way again.

A small frisson of fear tickles her spine as she takes in the dark stains covering his skin and she realizes there’s a sickly smell filling the car, like meat that’s been left out for too long and is starting to go bad. Its then that she realizes that she doesn’t even know who’s car they’re in and that the landscape passing by the windows as they speed along is no longer covered in a blanket of thick snow.

_“Where are we?”_ she says, ignoring his question.

_“Virginia.”_

_“Virginia? Why the hell are we in Virginia? What’s going on?”_

_“It’s okay… you’re okay. I’m taking you somewhere safe. We’re almost there.”_

_“Safe? Why…?’_

And in that instant she remembers, the events from the day before flying through her mind and she clutches at his arm.

_“Stop the car!”_

_“I can’t, there’s nowhere to stop.”_

_“Norman, stop the fucking car,”_ she screams at him and he wrenches the steering wheel to his left, ignoring the blaring of horns from the drivers behind him and pulls off the highway, bumping onto the soft shoulder and slamming the brakes on.

Lucia doesn’t even wait for the car to stop moving before she throws open her door and staggers around to the relative safety of his side before bending double to throw up a hot, thick stream of vomit, her insides wrenching until she feels like she might pass out. She hears the car door open and feels Norman’s hands coming around her hips to steady her but she pushes him off, surprised at how easy it is, and walks a few more stiff-legged steps away from the road.

_“Don’t touch me,”_ she mumbles, closing her eyes as she waits for nausea and dizziness to pass, the frigid air of a country morning cooling the sweat that’s formed on her brow. “ _Just don’t.”_

_“Lucia, I’m…”_

She straightens up, spitting on the ground at her feet, trying to clear the acrid taste that’s burned on her tongue and takes a good look at him but he refuses to meet her eyes and she can feel the guilt and despair pouring off of him, pulling his features into a rictus of misery that lances her heart. She walks slowly back to the car, passing close enough to feel the brush of his jacket against hers, wanting nothing more than to throw herself into his arms and hide from reality but knowing that if she gives in to that desire, she’ll be lost. Instead she climbs silently back into the passenger seat and after a minute’s hesitation, he gets back in and restarts the engine, pulling carefully back out into the early morning traffic that’s already filling the road. Lucia stares from her window, watching the still-dark countryside whizz past, trees and fields interspersed with small pockets of habitation as the terrain becomes increasingly mountainous until eventually a sign whips past the car that reads, _‘Welcome to Monterey, Home of the Maple Festival. Pop. 155’,_ in a cheerful script and Norman slows his breakneck speed just a little as he drives through the center of the small town and then continues on. A few minutes later, he turns off the main road and follows a series of increasingly rougher tracks, small animals skittering away from the oncoming car, until he turns a bend among the trees and pulls into the gravel drive of a large two-story house that looms out of the darkness to welcome them.

Norman kills the engine and they both sit there in silence for a minute before he sighs and cracks open the driver’s door.

_“Sean’s here,”_ he says simply and Lucia wonders why that fact makes her simultaneously feel nervous and relieved.

She follows him to the front door, noticing there’s a light on inside and also in one of the upstairs windows, and keeps behind him as he opens it and goes in. They’re barely inside, Lucia just closing the door behind her when she hears footsteps racing down the stairs to their left and Sean appears, clad in nothing but a pair of unbuttoned jeans, his hair wild and a look of murderous rage on his face as he takes the last few stairs in a single leap and storms across to meet Norman. Without even a pause, he hauls off and punches Norman squarely in the jaw with a furious right hook, Norman’s head cracking painfully to the side under the impact and, in the blink of an eye, Lucia finds herself between them, not even remembering moving, pushing Sean hard in the chest until he backs up a step and she has room to reach up and slap him hard across his cheek. She feels Norman’s hands grab her hard from behind, his fingers digging painfully into her upper arms, as she strains against him, staring Sean defiantly in the eyes as he ruefully rubs at his cheek before wagging a finger in her direction and barking out a short laugh.

_“Oh, I like her,”_ he says, the lines around his eyes deepening as he grins at Norman over her shoulder, _“I like her a lot.”_

Lucia bares her teeth at him, a sound coming from her vocal chords that she’s never heard herself make before and he infuriates her by laughing harder. She’s wriggling in Norman’s grip, the urge to scratch Sean’s eyes out fueling her movements when she hears another set of footsteps on the stairs and smells another distinctive scent on the air which makes her nose twitch.

_“Now, now, what’s going on in my house before I’ve even had my breakfast?”_ says the woman coming down the stairs and Lucia turns to look at her, taking in the dark jeans and simple white shirt she’s wearing, her unnaturally red hair pulled back into a bobbing ponytail that ends just below her shoulders.

_“Nothing, my sweet,”_ says Sean and the tension of the moment passes with his words.

Lucia feels Norman’s grip loosen on her arms as the woman approaches him, moving in as though to kiss his cheek and then pulling back, wrinkling her nose in disgust.

_“Well, you smell more disgusting than normal,”_ she tells him and then turns her face to Lucia who finds herself looking into yet another pair of blue eyes, albeit a deeper shade than either Norman’s or Sean’s, which are regarding her with a look of heartfelt empathy.

_“You must be Lucia,”_ she says, taking her arm and gently steering her away from Norman. _“You’ll have to excuse Sean, he’s a little grumpy about the screaming that’s been going on in his head all night.”_

Lucia gives her a puzzled look and gets a warm smile in return.

_“Don’t worry, I’ll explain everything. Right now, you look like you could do with a hot shower and a decent meal. Judging by how fast you got here, I’m betting Norman didn’t stop for anything as unimportant as food. No offence, sweetie, but you’re a hot mess and not the good kind. Come on, let’s leave the boys to their macho posturing and we’ll get you cleaned up. I’m Eris by the way.”_

_“You’re Sean’s wife?”_ Lucia asks, finally finding her voice as she allows herself to be led up the stairs.

_“Oh, sweetie, no,”_ Eris says, tipping her head back with a throaty laugh. _“Do you think I want to give him the satisfaction of thinking he owns me? Good lord, no, his ego is big enough already. It amuses me that he still keeps asking though, as if I’m suddenly going to change my mind after all these years. It’s adorable really.”_

_“Bitch!”_ calls Sean affectionately from behind them, making Eris laugh again and Lucia steals a last look over her shoulder, her eyes locking with Norman’s for a second before he passes out of sight and a cold hand of dread caresses her heart once more.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Lucia stands under the running water of the shower for what seems like an eternity just letting its scalding heat punish her skin as she scrubs furiously at every inch she can reach, pouring handful after handful of Eris’ sweet-smelling body wash into her palm until she eventually feels clean once more. As she’s toweling herself dry, she catches sight of herself in the full-length mirror that’s hung on the back of the door and she moves closer, turning her body this way and that looking for anything out of the ordinary.

_“If you’re looking for a tail, it’s a little too early!”_ comes Eris’ voice from the other side of the door, making Lucia jump a little and then give a small smile. She finishes drying off and then dresses in the clean clothes Eris has loaned her wishing, as always, that she was just a fraction taller as she bends to turn up the bottoms of the too-long jeans.

With her hair combed and her teeth thoroughly brushed, she knows she should go out and face what’s to come but still she lingers in the relative safety of the bathroom, resting against the wooden surround of the sink as she fidgets nervously with the sleeves of her shirt. From outside the bathroom door she hears Eris clear her throat and then again, a few seconds later, in an overdramatic way and Lucia sighs before opening the door.

_“I was starting to think you might have drowned yourself,”_ smirks Eris from where she’s lounging on the bed.

_“I still might,”_ replies Lucia and then stops as her nose picks up the most mouth-watering scent coming from downstairs. _“What is that?”_

_“That, my new-found friend, is the love of my life making bacon pancakes and, if you have to choose your last meal, then you’re not going to get much better than that.”_

Lucia feels her mouth drop a little in shock at Eris’ words as she searches for an appropriate response.

_“What?”_ asks Eris, climbing off the bed and stretching like a satisfied cat. _“Too soon? I’m sorry, sweetie, are you in denial?”_

_“Denial? I haven’t even had time to process what happened yet, let alone be in denial about what might happen. One minute I’m buying groceries for dinner and the next I’m in a whole different state, hell, a whole different world where my boyfriend and all his friends are werewolves and now I’m infected too and if I don’t die from it, my whole life is going to be turned inside-out. So no, Eride, I am not in denial just yet, maybe in an hour or so,”_ Lucia spits out, more harshly than she intended.

_“Oh, Lucia,”_ says Eris, crossing the room to place her hands warmly on Lucia’s shoulders and look her directly in the eye. _“I’m sorry, my mouth runs away with me sometimes. You’ll be fine, I promise. We’re going to take good care of you and make this as easy as possible, I swear. Now, come on, let’s get some food into you and we can all sit down and talk this over.”_

Lucia nods, the thought of food pushing away all her other concerns as her stomach gives a deep rumble.

_“Eride, huh?”_ asks Eris, as she steers Lucia down the hallway to the stairs.

_“Sorry, my Italian tends to fall out a little when I get pissed off.”_

_“No, its okay, I like it. Better than what your boyfriend calls me anyway.”_

_“Oh?”_

_“He likes to call me Discordia, like he thinks he’s so smart.”_

Lucia smiles to herself, thinking that it is actually kind of smart but she’s not about to tell Eris that. They pass through the living room to the raised dining area at the end where Norman is already seated at the table, looking clean and fresh in a pair of Sean’s jeans and a white t-shirt that is straining across his shoulders. He glances up as they approach but quickly looks away before Lucia’s eyes meet his and she feels the smile fade on her lips as she takes the seat beside him, the sense of calm she had been starting to feel wiped out by that small action. Sean pads barefoot into the room from the galley kitchen adjoining the dining room and places a heaped plate in front of her, handing another to Eris who thanks him and places a small kiss on his cheek.Lucia sees the skin of his back break out into a ripple of gooseflesh, betraying just how much that tiny gesture affects him and she files away that knowledge.

_“Honey, why don’t you go put on a shirt. We’re about to eat and none of us need to be looking at your nasty man-flesh while we do,”_ says Eris, placing her plate on the table next to Lucia and reaching for the coffee pot to pour them both a generous helping before sitting down. Seemingly from nowhere, an apple comes hurtling through the air from the direction of the kitchen on a direct course for Eris’ head but she deftly raises a hand, with barely a glance in that direction, and grabs it, sitting it next to her plate and continuing to drink her coffee like nothing happened.

By the time Sean joins them at the table, he’s wearing a pale denim shirt, unbuttoned almost to his waist, making Lucia question why he even bothered. He sits at the table and Eris quietly slides a bottle of Advil next to his plate and he gives her a grateful look, twisting off the cap and swallowing a handful before washing them down with a swig of coffee. Lucia turns her attention to her plate, devouring the generously-sized pancakes that are laden with thick slices of perfectly cooked bacon until her appetite is finally sated and she pushes away her plate with a sigh. The whole time she’s acutely aware of Norman’s presence at her side, tracking his movements as he eats in silence, feeling comforted by his nearness but somehow cut off from him. She can see the dark bruises painting the skin of his jaw and the way he winces a little as he eats, trying to avoid the swollen split in his lip. She knows they need to talk but right now she has more pressing issues that need to be dealt with. She catches Sean looking in her direction over the rim of his coffee cup and takes a deep breath before trying to find a place to start the hundreds of questions she wants to ask.

_“Eris said you had a headache from all the screaming in your head last night,”_ she says, indicating the pain meds with a nod of her head. _“What does that mean?”_

_“It’s tied to our bloodline is the short answer, I guess,”_ says Sean with a sigh, placing his coffee down on the table and turning it with his hands. _“There’s never really been a clear explanation for it over the years, as far as I’ve been able to make out, but basically anyone we turn or the gene is passed to through birth has a connection with the person who turned them. It’s not really psychic as such, I mean I can’t read Reedus’ mind, thank the Good Lord, but we can each sense each other’s feelings when one of us is in an extreme emotional state of some sort. And it seems the closer we are geographically, the stronger it is.”_

_“You guys were already here?”_ Norman asks, confusion in his voice. _“I thought you flew in because Jake called you last night.”_

_“No, as luck would have it, when I got home from the con in San Diego, I found Eris with another set of bags all packed and a pair of plane tickets in her hand, telling me we needed to get away for a few days. We got here early yesterday.”_

_“Pfft,”_ Eris snorts, _“luck had nothing to do with it. I had a premonition and once again I was right.”_

_“Eris likes to think she’s psychic,”_ says Sean in a ‘she’s crazy but I love her’ kind of tone, rolling his eyes at Lucia and earning a glare from his mate. _“Well premonition or not, all I know is that last night I suddenly find my head filled with so much burning anger and hate I had to go out in the yard and lay down just to cool off. And between the fiery bursts of rage all I could hear was a woman’s screams, over and over until I thought my brain was going to split in two. That was you, I presume?”_

Lucia nods slowly, turning over this new information and wondering whether it will be something she’ll share with Norman.

_“Here,”_ says Sean, digging something out of his pocket and tossing it across the table to Norman where it lands with a clatter. _“I found that under the bed in your room last night, damn thing was pulsing like it was alive. I know you’ve been looking for it.”_

Before Norman can pick up the mystery object, Lucia reaches out her fingers and snags it, pulling it towards her across the table’s smoothly varnished surface. She sees that it’s a necklace, the chain a swirl of filigreed silver, delicate links betraying its inherent strength, the fiale at its end seeming almost as light as air but with a strange weight about it when she holds it in her palm. The intricate glass and silver work together to encase the smallest of creatures, something undefinable to the human eye, it’s anatomy etched in silver with a vivid crimson mark detailed on its chest.

_“It’s the link that binds us,”_ Norman says, voice barely above a whisper. _“His blood in mine and mine in his.”_

He takes it gently from Lucia’s grasp, his hands brushing hers with the lightest of touches but still her skin tingles in his wake, and fastens it around his neck, tucking it inside the borrowed shirt that he’s wearing. Lucia turns her head to Eris, eyes falling to her neckline.

_“Oh, don’t look at me,”_ say the other woman, raising her hands. _“This is something between these two, nothing to do with me. I’d be happy to keep him out of my head, I certainly don’t want some ugly as sin thing hanging around my neck that acts as an amplifier.”_

Lucia’s eyes drift to back to Sean, taking note of the matching chain around his neck and she finds her natural curiosity is starting to push away some of the mind-numbing fear that’s been washing in and out of her for the past few hours.

_“Okay, so we have a semi-psychic blood link, got it. Now why don’t you tell me everything else I need to know while we still have time? Because I have a feeling there’s not much of it left,”_ she tells them and raises her arm to push up her sleeve and show them the distended bumps of bone that have just put in a painful appearance under her skin.


	16. Chapter 16

After breakfast and with large refills of coffee, everyone moves to the spacious living room and spreads out over the two large sofas flanking the stone fireplace. Norman sits, mostly in silence unless he’s directly asked something, letting Sean and Eris answer all of Lucia’s questions, lost deep in his own thoughts. With the revelation of the progressive change happening in her body, Sean had taken charge of the situation as he always does, wrapping his hands around her tiny forearm and soothing the skin there while he talked her though controlling her breathing and by extension controlling what was happening inside of her. Norman had watched, eyes riveted to her face as she had concentrated on Sean’s face, following his direction to bring herself back to normal, and he thought that he could almost pinpoint the very moment where her trust had rolled away from him and planted itself firmly onto Sean instead, feeling the knife buried in his heart twist a little deeper.

Her rejection of him on the side of the road when he had tried to help her, needed to help her, had confirmed what he already feared – that she wanted nothing more to do with him, she was disgusted by what he was and hated him for what he’d done to her. With a growing unease, he knows without a shadow of a doubt, that once this is all over, once she has this under enough control to live her life, she’ll disappear from his and he’ll never see her again. He’s pondering what he’ll do at that point, what his existence will be like without her by his side, when he realizes the room has grown silent around him and three pairs of eyes are turned expectantly in his direction.

_“What?”_ he asks.

_“Typical Norman,”_ Eris laughs, unfolding herself from the sofa and walking towards the kitchen, _“always has his head in the clouds no matter what.”_

He looks to Sean who just shakes his head at him and then gets up to follow Eris to the kitchen, demanding his woman make him a sandwich and being told exactly where he can shove his damn sandwich. While the two of them start a heated argument over the division of labor in their relationship, Norman watches Lucia stand up from the sofa beside him and stretch slightly before turning to look down at him.

_“We need to talk,”_ she says simply, her voice betraying nothing of her state of mind.

_“Yes,”_ he replies, getting up and looking anywhere but directly at her. _“But outside, there’s no privacy in a house full of wolves.”_

She nods and heads for the front door, grabbing a jacket from the coat-hooks on the wall and he follows her out into the watery grey light of a winter’s day, his breath pluming on the chill air as she leads him away from the house, following the worn trail that leads into the woods beyond. He knows there’s a small clearing up ahead, he’s used it with the others to Shift before a run on numerous occasions, and when she reaches it she stops, taking a moment before she turns to face him, keeping a distance between them. He feels his pulse pounding in his temples and he wants to run, just disappear into the frozen woods and lose himself, stay in his wolf form for the rest of his life until he dies, miserable and alone, just as he deserves but he stands his ground, hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jeans as he stares morosely at the scuffed toes of his boots.

_“Norman,”_ her voice is soft but it carries on the still air and the hair along his neck prickles in response, _“look at me.”_

He raises his head slowly, not wanting to face his fate but knowing he must, and finds her green eyes shining back at him from her pale face, the dark circles etched under her skin just serving to make them even brighter as she regards him carefully, her expression a mask of neutrality. It occurs to him that neither of them have slept apart from her fevered doze in the car while he drove them here and his body physically aches with the need to just curl around her and fall asleep with her next to him. Almost as if she read his mind, he sees a small smile start at the corner of her mouth and his heart bangs furiously in his chest but, before it can spread across her lips completely her face crumples and even his enhanced reflexes can’t catch her before she hits the hard earth, her body convulsing as her eyes roll back in her head and he falls to his knees beside her.

As he pulls her up into his arms and races back the way they came, he can feel the position of her bones shifting under her skin, the sensation both familiar and alien to him at the same time. Sean and Eris are waiting for him at the open door, his mental yells alerting Sean to the situation he’s sure and they stand back as he flies sure-footedly up the stairs and carries Lucia into his room, placing her gently on the bed. Her skin is aflame, he can see the perspiration forming as he watches but her body has stopped its manic jerking and, as he lays her down, her eyes flicker open, rolling a little until they focus on him and she grabs tightly at his wrist, pulling him down to her.

_“Get out,”_ she hisses, her fingers digging into his flesh and then thrusting him away from her.

He stands frozen to the spot, her words biting into his soul but he can’t move, can’t do anything but stare at her in despair.

_“I said, get out,”_ she screams, sitting up on the bed and pushing hard against his stomach, forcing him to take a step back, her fists beating against his torso when he stops moving.  _“Get out, get out, get out!”_

Her unbridled rage drives him back another step and then Eris’ hands are on him, pulling him back to the open door and shoving him through it, ignoring his protests that he needs to stay, he has to stay and, as she pulls the door closed behind them the last thing he sees is Sean taking Lucia’s hands in his as he sits next to her on the bed. He fights against Eris for a moment but she stands fast, letting him get it out of his system and then he sinks to the floor beside the door, cradling his head in his hands and just wishing for his world to end. Eris slides down beside him, pressing her body in against his side, letting him know that she’s there for him but he doesn’t want her comfort or her sympathy, he knows he doesn’t deserve anything but his misery.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 The hours pass in wretched slowness, Norman’s body trying to shut down on him, to force him to rest, time and again, but he resists, fueling himself with the endless cups of bitter coffee Eris keeps bringing him. She insists that he eats, getting mad at him when he refuses until he gives in and lets her go make him something, more to keep her occupied and away from him for five minutes than him having any want or need for it. When she returns with it, he takes it with a nod then sits the plate beside him where it’s still laying untouched but she doesn’t press the issue. From inside the bedroom behind him there’s been a steady stream of noise as the day has progressed, sometimes just the low murmur of Sean’s voice and Lucia’s soft replies which Norman has tuned out, wanting to respect their privacy, and other times the gut wrenching screams as he hears her body try desperately to manipulate itself into a new shape. Worst of all are the silences in-between, where her raspy breathing and her moans flood his ears, and he wants to fling open the door and go to her, comfort her in any way that he can but he knows that option is no longer his.

Finally, as afternoon drifts into evening, there’s a particularly vociferous round of screaming followed by a new sound, the huff of breath coming from a different set of lungs and Norman thumps his fists on the floor, knowing that she’s made it through the worst part of it, Eris throwing her arms around his neck and planting exuberant kisses on his cheek. He hears Sean talking quietly, repeating something over and over and then, a short while later, he hears the change in Lucia’s body as she Shifts back into her human form, Sean’s words of encouragement clearly defined through the wall. They talk for some time after it’s done and then Norman hears the creak of the bed and Sean’s light step as he crosses the wooden floor and exits the room, pulling the door almost shut behind him. He looks tired but there’s a familiar smirk in his eyes that puts Norman instantly at ease, he knows things are never as bad as they seem when Sean has that look about him. Reaching an arm down to pull Eris up from the floor, he nudges her toward the door with a light slap to her rear.

_“She wants to see you, babe,”_ he says, lowering himself to take her empty spot next to Norman.

Eris pushes open the door and goes in, closing it firmly behind her once more and Norman is starting to feel uncomfortably akin to an expectant father waiting on the birth of his child. He glances at Sean who is grinning back at him and raises an eyebrow at him. Sean laughs softly and throws an arm around Norman’s neck bringing their heads close together so he can whisper in his ear.

_“Smile, you dumb shit, she’s going to be fine. She’s determined, I’ll give her that. Damn near broke my fingers on that last part.”_

Norman feels part of his fears subside at Sean’s words, Lucia is going to be okay and that’s all that matters, what happens with them is something he’s just going to have to deal with when the time comes. He leans comfortably against Sean, drawing strength from him, thankful for Eris’ premonition or whatever it was that put them here in time to help him. He shudders a little thinking what could have happened had he and Lucia been here alone when her first Shift came on, he remembers his own vividly, three days of endless torture as his body refused to cooperate, Sean crying next his bedside because he thought he’d killed his best friend, the knowledge he has now on how to ease the transition still unknown to him at that point. In fact it was Norman’s first Shift that prompted him to delve deeper into their history, sending him on an almost obsessive mission to arm himself with every piece of information he could gather on their kind, determined to never be in that situation again and, when he had turned Eris, her first Shift had been short like Lucia’s was, mere hours instead of days.

_“Oh, why don’t you two just get a room and get it over with?”_ comes Eris’ mocking voice from above him and he looks up into her smiling face, wondering how he missed her coming out of the bedroom. _“C’mon, loverboy, your woman wants to talk to you.”_

He’s on his feet in an instant, running his hand nervously over his chin as Sean stands up beside him.

_“Go on, you pussy, what are you waiting for?”_ whispers Sean with a hard nudge to his ribcage. _“Eris and I are going out for a run, give you a little space.”_

Norman doesn’t even acknowledge them as they leave, instead opening the door with a certain amount of trepidation, not looking at Lucia until he’s closed it firmly behind him. When he turns his eyes to her, he sees that she’s half-sitting, propped up against a pile of pillows, one of Eris’ gaudy silk robes tied loosely around her. Her head is tilted back, eyes closed and, for a second he thinks she’s asleep, the selfish part of him rejoicing at the fact he can postpone the inevitable for a little longer but then she opens her eyes and a weak smile brushes over her lips.

_“Hi,”_ she says, her voice cracked and raw in the aftermath of her screams.

_“Hi,”_ he mumbles, not moving from his position by the door, _“how are you feeling?”_

_“Well, I’m having a little Deja-vu but apart from that…’_ she shrugs. _“I’m still here, I guess, so that’s a good sign, right?”_

_“Deja-vu?”_ he asks, confused, contemplating if this is something he should be telling Sean about.

_“Yeah,”_ she smiles and he takes a few involuntary steps forwards. _“This reminds me of how we first met although I think you came off better than I have.”_

_“How do you figure that?”_ he replies, closing another part of the distance between them until he’s standing with his knees pressed against the foot of the bed.

_“Well, you had me to take care of you. All I have is the Three Stooges looking out for me,”_ she laughs then pushes a hand to her ribs and winces a little.

_“Lucia –“_

_“I’m sorry,”_ she says suddenly, cutting him off before he can even begin.

_“Sorry?”_ Now he really is confused. _“What the hell do you have to be sorry about?”_

_“For yelling at you earlier, for not letting you help me on the way here.”_

_“Are you crazy? Jesus fucking Christ, Lucia, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I get it. I hate myself enough for what happened to you so I can only imagine how much you must hate me too. I wouldn’t want me around either after this, I’m surprised you wanted to see me at all. Look, I’m not going to make this difficult for you, okay? I’ll go back now, drive home to the city while you recuperate. Sean and Eris will take good care of you, I swear and by the time you get back I’ll have separated our lives. You won’t ever have to see me again.”_

He lets out a shaky breath, casting his eyes down from her face and stands waiting for her response, for her to agree with him, to tell him she’ll never forgive him for what he’s done.

_“Are you done?”_ she asks after a moments silence and he looks up, horrified to see huge tears welling in her eyes. The last thing he wanted to do was cause her anymore pain. He nods miserably, thinking now that it would have been better if he’d just left as soon as she was safe with Sean. With an obvious effort, she raises herself up into a kneeling position and moves down the bed until she’s face to face with him.

_“You’re an idiot,”_ she tells him, slapping her palm lightly against his chest and then leaving it there. _“Do you really think that’s why I wanted you to leave the room? That I blame you for all of this? That I hate you and want you gone? Did you not hear what I told Gabe when he asked me how I felt about you, how I would love you for a thousand lifetimes in whatever form you take? Look at me, was I lying then?”_

She takes his face between her hands, the warmth of her skin matching his now and forces him to look at her. He takes a proper look at her face for the first time since this nightmare began for him, having been too afraid of what he might see in her eyes if he’d looked before now and he’s surprised to find there’s no hate in her visage, no resentment or anger, just the same familiar love that’s always been there. He shakes his head beneath her hands just the tiniest fraction, trying not to let the spark of hope that’s wormed its way into his chest take over just yet.

_“Then am I lying when I say I love you now?”_ she asks, not letting her eyes lose contact with his and he gives another shake of his head. _“The reason I wanted you away from me is because I couldn’t stand the thought of you seeing me like that. I knew you were already punishing yourself over everything that happened and I didn’t want you to witness what I was going to go through, especially if things went badly.”_

_“But I wanted to be there for you,”_ he says softly, his hands coming up to take hers from his face and squeeze them tight.

_“I know you did and a part of me was screaming for you to be there but it would have broken us, don’t you understand? Do you know how many men leave their wives after witnessing them giving birth? They can’t live with the guilt of putting somebody they love through such torture and they can never look at them the same way again. I’m pretty sure that what I just went through was a damn sight more horrific to watch that any childbirth and the last thing I want is you looking at me the next time we’re making love and all you can see is how I looked in that moment. Things would have never been the same again between us, I just know it in my heart.”_

Norman stares down at her, slowly digesting her words, hoping against hope that he’s not misinterpreting her meaning but needing to be sure.

_“So, you don’t hate me?”_ he asks tentatively.

_“Not even close, you big dork,”_ she answers him with a smile that lights up the whole room for him. _“That’s not to say we don’t have some issues I think we need to work on but no, I don’t hate you, I could never hate you.”_

With a gentle tug on his hands, she brings him closer to her, pressing her body to his as she angles her head to reach his lips in a soft kiss. His hands drop hers, coming automatically to first cup her face as he kisses her back and then drop down to encircle her waist as he holds her tightly to him, losing himself in her.

_“Ow,”_ she says, breaking their kiss a few minutes later and he looks at her in concern. _‘I think the make-out session might have to wait a little longer, babe. I’m not sure everything’s back where it should be inside me just yet and the parts that are feel like they were pounded with a jackhammer for most of the day. I think I need to lay down again.”_

Carefully, he helps her back down onto the bed, gently pulling the blanket up over her legs as she curls on her side and sighs, closing her eyes again.

_“Where are you going?”_ she asks as he steps softly away from the bed, turning her head to look back at him over her shoulder.

_“I was going to let you sleep in peace, I’ll be right outside if you need me.”_

_“What I need is for you to get in bed with me and wrap those ridiculously strong arms around me and not go anywhere.”_

She holds out her hand back towards him and he grins as he takes it, sliding onto the bed behind her to curl around her and settle her softly into his embrace. He buries his face against her hair, breathing in the unfamiliar scent of the different shampoo she used earlier but finding her own scent hidden underneath and he silently raises thanks to whatever higher powers might be listening for not only keeping his love alive but also for letting her still love him. He knows they have a hard road ahead of them, especially Lucia, but he doesn’t let it worry him, they’ll deal with whatever life throws at them as best they can and they’ll do it together.

_“You know what I think we should do?”_ Lucia mumbles sleepily from where her head is resting on his arm, her breath steamy on his bare flesh. _“I think we should sleep for at least a week then get Sean to make us some more of those killer pancakes and then you, mister, you get to be my personal trainer in all things wolfly.”_

_“Wolfly?”_ he asks with a smile.

_“’S’a word,”_ she mutters and he strokes his thumb over the back of her hand that’s wrapped in his, willing her to sleep, closing his own eyes and listening to her breathing.

_“Oh, Jesus, Norman!”_ she startles him by suddenly turning in his arms, a look of anguish on her face and he has a moment of panic as he thinks she’s in pain again.

_“What is it?”_ he asks, his hand running along her spine.

_“Beegle! We left him alone and EITD. Oh my God, how long has it been?”_

_“Shh, shh, they’re fine,”_ he says, a wave of relief washing over him. _“I called Mrs. H while you were passed out in the car last night, told her you’d had a family emergency and we had to leave town in a hurry. She’s taking care of them, I promise.”_

_“Thank heavens,”_ breathes Lucia, collapsing back down against him, resting her face against his chest as he brings an arm protectively around her, the rapid beat of her heart fluttering against him until she calms herself once more.

_“Now go to sleep,”_ he tells her, feeling his own body succumbing to the pull of unconsciousness, _“I love you, baby.”_

_“Mmm, I love you equally,”_ she answers and he feels a smile pulling at his lips as he falls asleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The room is already light when Norman wakes the next morning, rolling over and rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he realizes he’s alone. He spots Lucia sitting on the wide window seat staring out into the watery sunlight and slides out of bed to go over and sit behind her, pulling her back into his arms so that she’s laying against his chest.

_“You okay, babe?”_ he asks, nuzzling his lips against the side of her neck.

_“It’s so loud,”_ she replies, leaning her head back against his shoulder.

_“What is?”_

_“The world,”_ she sighs, lacing her fingers with his across her abdomen and squeezing gently.

He chuckles softly, pressing his lips to her temple in a warm kiss.

_“You’ll learn to tune it out, I promise. Think about concentrating on one thing and the rest will just become white noise._ ”

He feels her draw in a breath and hold it, her fingers tight on his, and he knows she’s trying to do as he says. She exhales slowly and her grip on his hand loosens a little.

_“Better?”_

_“Mm-hmm,”_ she nods and he kisses her head once more. _“You know the others didn’t come home all night? I’m guessing I don’t have to be worried?”_

_“No,”_ he tells her, casting his thoughts out and feeling Sean’s exuberant presence nearby, _“no need to worry, they’ll be home in a minute or two.”_

_“Good. I’m starving.”_

_“Well, I can go make you food, babe, we don’t have to wait on them.”_

_“No. You I need to just sit here and hold me a little longer.”_

_“I can do that,”_ he says, wrapping his arms a little tighter around her.

They sit together, warm in each other’s embrace, watching the world wake up outside the window until the morning’s peace is shattered by the kitchen door being thrown open downstairs and the rowdy voices of Sean and Eris fill the house. Norman listens to them as they fight, Sean viciously attacking Eris’ abilities as a hunter and she, in return, throwing back derogatory comments about his sexual prowess. Lucia turns in Norman’s arms to look at him, one eyebrow raised.

_“Are they always like this?”_ she whispers.

_“Oh yeah, you’ll get used to it. They’ve been fighting since the day they met and they’ll be fighting till the day they die, they love each other that much. You might want to cover your ears in a minute though.”_

She gives him a puzzled look and then he sees the realization dawn on her features as the sounds from below change from argumentative to something else entirely.

_“Oh my God!”_ she snorts as the grunts and groans of their energetic love-making float up through the floorboards and she slaps a hand over her mouth.

_“Why don’t we go take a shower?”_ says Norman with a laugh, gently nudging her to her feet and leading her to the bathroom.

The running water and the closed door help muffle the noise somewhat as they undress, bumping each other a little as the space is smaller than they’re accustomed to.

_“Okay, I think this is going to have to be a ‘one at a time’ thing,”_ he tells her as she steps on his foot for the second time. _“You go first. I’ll sit here and keep you company.”_

Lucia steps into the tub and pulls the shower curtain across which is maybe a good thing, Norman thinks. While his head reasonably knows that this is not the time to be lusting over her, the sight of her naked before him, as always, calls to his baser nature. He rubs the back of his neck with one hand, trying to block the raunchy sounds he can still hear over the water and making an effort to ignore Lucia’s scent which is now permeating the small space he’s enclosed in as she immerses herself in the shower.

_“So, who’s house is this?”_ she asks from behind the curtain and he welcomes the distraction.

_“Sean’s originally but now the three of us are joint owners.”_

_“Why here?”_

_“A girl!”_ Norman says with a wry laugh. _“With Sean, it always leads back to a girl somehow. He was dating this chick who lived around here, I don’t even remember how they met but she brought him here once and he fell in love with the place. Thought it would make a perfect getaway, so as soon as he could find a place to buy, he didn’t hesitate.”_

_“And the girl?”_

_“Ha! Long gone, as far as I know. I can’t keep track of all his women, I gave up a long time ago.”_

_“How did he and Eris meet? She seems kind of…”_

_“Out of his league? She is, and he totally knows it. She’s the first woman he ever dated that didn’t take any of his macho bullshit and I think he’s still trying to figure out how that happened.”_

Lucia laughs, pulling back the shower curtain and wringing the excess water from her hair as she steps out. Norman quickly hands her a towel and eases around her to step under the stream of hot water himself, pulling the curtain closed between them.

_“Can we go out after breakfast, take a walk?”_ she asks and he can hear the need in her voice, the longing to be exploring the world with new eyes.

_“Sure, if you’re feeling up to it. Your body had a huge shock yesterday, it’s going to take a little time to get back to normal.”_

_“But I feel fine, better than fine actually. I feel strong, like somebody finally plugged me into the mains after I’d been running on batteries all these years.”_

_“Yeah, it does kinda feel like that, right? But you still need to conserve your energy, you should Shift again tonight.”_

_“Tonight? Why?”_

_“Because its best to do it as many times as you can in the first few days, get your body used to making the change so it becomes second nature and then the pain that comes with it will gradually fade until you barely even notice it anymore.”_

_“Oh,”_ she replies and then falls silent.

Norman finishes rinsing his hair and turns off the water, grabbing a towel that he wraps around his waist as he steps from the tub and looks towards where she’s sitting, noticing the way she bites her bottom lip and the frown that creases her forehead as she looks him up and down.

_“What?”_

She stands up and steps towards him, her hands skimming lightly over his abs, the frown deepening on her face as she follows the line of dark bruising that’s coloring his skin around under his arm to his back.

_“Shit, baby, I’m sorry. I’ve been so wrapped up in what’s going on with me that I totally forgot you were hurt.”_

Norman gives a small laugh, taking her hands in his and drawing her fingers up to his lips to gently kiss the tips.

_“Darlin’, don’t even worry about it. This is nothing, looks just like a normal day on set for me. Let’s just worry about taking care of you, okay?”_

He can see the protest forming on her lips as she opens her mouth to answer but she’s cut off by a harsh knocking at the door which makes them both jump a little.

_“If you two can stop making out for five minutes, breakfast is almost ready,”_ bellows Sean through the closed door, laughing to himself as he walks away.

Norman rolls his eyes at Lucia and shakes his head then opens the door to the bedroom and walks out followed by a cloud of steam.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

After a somewhat awkward breakfast, Norman and Lucia excuse themselves and head outside, Norman taking her hand and leading her away from the house, just enjoying being outside again. He smiles to himself as she practically tows him along, her nose wrinkling in delight as she tries to take in everything with her heightened senses all at once, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet at each new miracle she encounters. Mentally, he gives a huge sigh of relief, he can’t believe how well she’s coped with everything that’s been thrown at her, how quickly she’s adapting to her situation. He’s not sure he would have been so together if he’d suddenly been thrust into the middle of such an unbelievable scenario with no warning and had the life he knew ripped away from him without his consent. At least when it had happened to him, it had been his choice, he’d been made aware of all the pros and cons beforehand and knew enough to make that decision for himself but to be thrown into it against his will? He’s not sure how he would have coped with that, certainly not as well as Lucia seems to be doing, he thinks, marveling at the way she always manages to surprise him.

They walk for a while, Norman telling her a little bit about the area and the town, and then, as he notices some of the vigor leaving her step, he steers them back towards the house bribing Lucia with promises of hot coffee when she insists she wants to keep going. Reluctantly she agrees but he knows that underneath her words she’s actually relieved to be going home to rest again, he can see the small signs of strain starting to show on her face. Arriving back at the house, they find the others have gone out, headed into town to pick up a few things according to the note they find on the kitchen counter and they have the place to themselves. After tucking Lucia up on the sofa with a steaming mug of coffee and the tv to keep her company, Norman excuses himself to go make a couple of calls. After a quick conversation with Clark just to check in and let him know what was happening and where he was, he hangs up and dials the number of Jake’s office.

_“Detective Wolfe,”_ Jake answers.

_“Seriously, bro, are you ever gonna change that ridiculous name?”_

_“Reedus you dick. What’s happening? How’s your lady friend?”_

_“She’s good man, surprisingly good actually. That’s why I’m calling. I need to thank you for showing up when you did, it made all the difference. I honestly don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t been there. You really saved my ass, man, and Lucia’s. We owe you big time.”_

_“Yeah, yeah, don’t go getting all sentimental on me. We all know I’m the hero of the hour, you can just say it.”_ crows Jakes. _“Seriously, it was no big deal. We take care of our own, you know that. What’s a little arson between friends, huh? Nothing left of your little problem except smoke and ash that nobody gives two shits about. Don’t sweat it.”_

_“Dude, you have no idea what a relief it is to hear you say that. When we get back to the city, I owe you a beer.”_

_“A beer? Really? When you get back, we’ll have a long discussion on what you owe me but let me tell you, it’ll be more than one damn beer! Listen, brother, I have to run. Say hi to the reprobate for me and give Eris one of my special kisses. Oh and make sure you fill my fucking gas tank before you bring the car back, comprendes?”_

_“Yes sir, Detective Wolfe, whatever you say.”_

_“Don’t sass me boy, or I’ll be meeting you with an ass-kicking when you get home. Hey, take care of your lady, okay, she seemed nice under all the blood and grime. Definitely too good for the likes of you, anyway.”_

_“She really is,”_ replies Norman, then realizes he’s talking to dead air as Jake has hung up already.

With a resigned shake of his head, he pockets his phone and heads back into the living room to find Lucia fast asleep, her coffee going cold beside her and the tv remote on the floor where she’s dropped it. He climbs onto the sofa beside her, quieting her as she stirs, and wraps around her, thinking they could both do with a rest before the evening comes. He’s barely closed his eyes when he hears the sound of a car outside and the slamming of car doors that signals the return of Sean and Eris. With a sigh, he scrunches his eyes tighter, knowing neither of them will be fooled but hoping that, if he at least feigns sleep, they might leave him alone. No such luck.

_“Aww, look at how cute they are,”_ comes Sean’s voice in a mock sing-song tone.

_“Leave them be,”_ growls Eris in warning from the kitchen where Norman can hear her unloading grocery bags and putting things away.

_“Pfft, you’re no fun,”_ answers Sean and a bright light flashes against Norman’s eyelids.

He cracks open an eye to glare at a grinning Sean who is holding his cellphone poised to take another shot of the sleeping couple.

_“Don’t you have traffic you should be playing in?”_ Norman asks, pushing up into a sitting position and resting a hand against Lucia’s hip who’s also now awake.

_“Bite me,”_ replies Sean, flopping onto the other sofa and kicking off his boots.

_“Not if you were the last meal on earth and I was the only wolf,”_ Norman throws back and flips him the finger.

Sean chuckles for a moment and then becomes serious as he looks at Lucia.

_“It’s time to Shift again, honey,”_ he tells her, his tone brooking no argument.

_“I thought later,”_ says Lucia and Norman feels her body tense under his hand, _“after dinner.”_

_“It’s best to do it on an empty stomach the first few times. Come on, I’ll go with you.”_

He stands and looks at her expectantly.

_“I’ll do it alone,”_ she mumbles, getting up from the sofa.

_“Not going to happen,”_ he tells her, crossing his arms.

_“Then I want Norman to be with me.”_

_“What?”_ asks Norman in confusion. _“But I didn’t think you wanted me to…”_

He trails off as he catches the look in her eye and follows her as she heads for the stairs, Sean shrugging at him as he passes.

Safely behind the closed door of their room, Lucia turns to him and he can see the panic rising in her eyes, hear her breathing becoming more rapid as she starts pacing back and forth.

_“I can’t do it,”_ she hisses at him, stopping to look him in the eye. _“I won’t do it.”_

_“Baby, you have to. We talked about this. The more you do it now, the easier it will get.”_

_“Well, what if I don’t want it to get easier, huh? What if I never want to do it again?_

To his dismay, huge tears start rolling down her cheeks as she shakes her head emphatically. He steps forward, opening his arms to her and she dissolves against his chest, her small frame racked with sobs as she clings to his back and he realizes just how wrong he’s been about how well she’s been coping.

_“I don’t want this. I didn’t ask for it. Please, just make it all go away. There must be something we can do, go to a hospital, I don’t know, anything just don’t make me go through that again.”_

_“Shh, Lucia, baby,”_ he soothes, stroking her back and her hair. _“I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how you feel, finding out about me and then being forced into something that wasn’t your choice. If I could take it all back I would but there’s no cure, baby, that’s just the way it is. And you have to Shift.”_

_“Why?”_ she wails against his neck. _“Why can’t I just choose not to?”_

_“Because it doesn’t work like that. If you deny your body the Shift it’s going to rebel against you. We can only go for a certain amount of time before our bodies start to crave it and if we deny it then it’s going to just happen whether you initiate it or not. And it’s going to be out of your control when and where that happens and, baby, it’s going to hurt a billion times worse than what you experienced yesterday. So you have to do this.”_

She shakes her head and he lets her cry against him for a few more moments before taking her firmly by her shoulders and forcing her to look at him.

_“You can do this, I know you can. You’ve already been so brave and this time won’t be anywhere near as bad as yesterday. Remember what Sean told you and just let your body do the work, it already knows what to do now, you just have to let it.”_

She sniffles a little more, taking deep breaths, and then lets out a shuddering sigh before turning out of his grip and walking to the bathroom, closing the door behind her. Norman follows, leaning his fingertips against the smooth wood for a moment, his heart aching, before sliding down to sit with his back against the door as he listens to her undress and then take up an identical position to his on the other side.

_“Are you ready, baby?”_ he asks softly, his fingers curling into fists at his sides.

_“No.”_

_“Come on, Lucia, you just have to concentrate a little and your body will do the rest. Think of it like riding a horse, you go out day after day and your body starts to get a muscle memory of what it’s like to be on that horse, how to control it, until its doing most of the work without you really even thinking about it. But if you take a break for say a month or two and then spend the day riding again, your body will have lost some of that memory and the next day you’re going to hurt like fuck. This is the exact same thing. The more you do it, the more accustomed your body becomes and the easier it gets. Honestly, for me now, that last snap of everything into place is kinda orgasmic, it crosses that thin line between pleasure and pain.”_

He stops talking, thinking that’s probably the last thing she needs to hear right now, how he gets off on his Shift, and he hears her breathing evening out through the door. 

_“You hate horses,”_ she says quietly and he chuckles deep in his chest.

He hears her weeping again and he clenches his fists once more, willing himself not to just throw open the door, knowing she needs to do this for herself.

_“Baby, it’s going to be amazing, you’ll see. Look at how you felt today, imagine feeling like that all the time. We never get sick, if we’re hurt we heal so much faster, we don’t age like before and just think of your art, think of how you’re going to see things now, how that’s going to affect what you create.”_

_‘And what about the other side to it, the killing, the blood lust. I saw you in that house, Norman, I saw what you did. I don’t want to be like that.”_

_“I did what I had to, to protect you, to protect both of us. I won’t lie to you, there are those among us who do take pleasure in the killing of others but we’re not monsters, Lucia, I’m not a monster. Sean, Eris. Jake. We just want to live our lives, use the gift that we have to enhance ourselves. We don’t want to hurt anyone but we’ll protect each other if we have to. I know you don’t see me like that, not deep down. I saw your painting, by the way, with my demons as protectors, I think that’s how you really feel about me, the way you portrayed me there.”_

_“Well, I never knew your demons were real.”_

_“It’s not a curse, Lucia, it’s a gift, a privilege, and I want to share that with you, I want to go out and live our lives with this amazing legacy that we have together. I know you’re scared but I promise you everything will be fine, I’ll never let anybody hurt you again. You have to trust me, baby. Please.”_

There’s silence behind the door apart from her steady breaths in and out for what seems the longest time and then he hears it, hears the wet snap of tissue and bone rearranging itself as her body Shifts and he rests his head back against the door, letting his tears flow freely down his face.


	17. Chapter 17

Lucia flops onto the cool tiles of the bathroom floor, letting her breathing come under control as she tries not to freak out about being in a completely alien body. She’s aware of Norman nearby, his scent filling her twitching nostrils as she huffs breaths in and out but she’s not ready to deal with him just yet. After the initial panic subsides, she starts testing out her new form, starting with the basics such as opening and closing her eyes and working up to moving larger parts of herself as her brain adapts to working her new shell. She’s just considering telling her body to stand up when she hears Norman change position outside the door, startled when she feels her ears swivel towards the sound.

_“Baby, are you okay? Can I come in?”_ he asks softly.

Lucia hurries to get up, the uncoordinated mess of her new limbs dropping her back to the floor a few times before she manages to lurch closer to the door and thump her body against it in what she hopes is a clear sign that she doesn’t want him to enter. A low, warning growl gurgles out of her throat as her brain translates her saying no into something her body can vocalize.

_“Okay, okay,”_ Norman says and she thinks she can hear a smile in his voice. _“You tell me when. I want to see you, baby.”_

Lucia pulls her limbs into a sitting position, a little disturbed by the way her tongue lolls out of her mouth as she pants in the warm room, her eyes fastening on the mirror above the sink. _“Am I ready for him to see me,”_ she ponders, _“when I haven’t even seen myself yet?’_ It would be so easy to just walk over and put her front paws up on the sink and take a look at herself in the mirror, she thinks but she doesn’t move, stays rooted to the spot she’s in, feeling her skin rippling a little as her body keeps its grip on her new shape. She sits awhile, still testing out her new perspective on things, proud of herself for remembering the breathing techniques Sean had taught her when she Shifted. There was definitely less pain this time and she’s thankful for that but it still wasn’t the easiest thing to do and she’s not looking forward to the Shift back. With a resigned sigh, which exits her mouth as a deep huff, she decides she can’t sit in the bathroom all day and slowly gets to her feet, feeling an awful lot like a new born calf as she attempts to wrangle four legs instead of two. Moving away from the door, she turns to face it, steadying her stance and emits a low whine which she hopes Norman will understand as a sign that she’s ready to see him.

The door handle turns slowly and then the door is pushed open to reveal him standing on the threshold, a look of wonder on his face. Now that she’s standing, she realizes that she’s actually taller than she thought, her head level with his waist and she looks expectantly up at him. With a huge smile splitting his face, he drops to his knees in front of her and she unwittingly finds that her rear end is wagging from side to side at the sight of him, something she quickly puts a stop to.

_“Damn, Lucia, you’re beautiful,”_ he says, taking her face in his hands and running his fingers over her features, his touch against her pelt making her want to wag her tail all the more. _“Your eyes didn’t change, they’re still green. I’ve never seen that before, usually everybody gets some variation of blue after their first Shift but yours are shining like two chips of polished jade. It’s amazing.”_

He rests his forehead against hers and she inhales the scent of him, memorizing every nuance until she knows that she’d recognize it anywhere. With a small whine, she wriggles in his grip and he lets her go, sitting back on his ankles with a smile on his face.

_“Sorry, babe,”_ he says with a small laugh. _“I hate when people hang on me too when I’m like that. So, do you feel like you want to go downstairs, show the others how you look?”_

Lucia backs up from him a couple of steps, baring her teeth a little.

_“Alright, I’m guessing that’s a no. How about a little walk around the bedroom, get used to those legs a bit more. I promise not to laugh when you fall on your ass.”_

He steps to one side and with a little grunt, Lucia stalks past him, trying to maintain an air of dignity that only lasts until she tries to maneuver past the end of the bed to turn around and somehow her back legs get crossed and she thuds to the floor. She picks herself up and shakes out her fur, actually enjoying the sensation of it rippling out from her body and then shoots what she hopes is the wolf equivalent of a glare in Norman’s direction. True to his word, he’s not laughing but she can see the smirk lighting up his eyes and she realizes that she doesn’t care, that she’s actually happy to see him smiling after everything they’ve been through. It’s that thought that flips something in Lucia’s brain, makes her realize that maybe she can do this. Yes, a terrible thing happened to her but terrible things happen to people every day and they don’t just give up and cry about it. She’s never been one to shy away from her fears, meeting everything head on with as much determination as possible, and she doesn’t see why this should be any different. So, she’s going to have to adapt, make changes in her life, but will they really be so terrible? After all, she knows that Norman and Sean haven’t lied to her about how this gift can enhance her life, she can already feel the untapped potential just coiled and ready beneath the surface waiting for her to unleash it. She just needs to approach it like any other project she takes on, do her research, study her subject and learn the best ways to maximize her abilities to her benefit.

With a small growl of determination, she renews her concentration on the task at hand, slowly making laps of the bedroom while Norman sits cross-legged in the middle of the floor watching her pass him by. Finally her brain stops asking for the commands to move each of her limbs in time and starts doing it on auto-pilot allowing her to increase her pace until she’s bounding from side to side in the small room, leaping on and off the bed while Norman throws his head back and laughs with unbridled delight. The only thing that stops her headlong flight around the room is the sudden opening of the door and the appearance of a giggling Sean and Eris.

_“It sounded like there was a herd of baby elephants thundering around up here so we thought we better come take a look,”_ says Eris with a grin.

_“I told her it was just one of Reedus’ freaky sex games but she wouldn’t listen to me.”_

_“Then I’m so glad that you knocked first,”_ replies Norman sarcastically, pushing up from the floor and standing protectively in front of Lucia.

With a soft nudge of her nose against his hand to let him know that she doesn’t mind, Lucia sits next to him, leaning against his thigh as she regards the other two. Eris steps closer, looking down at her with something akin to jealousy in her eyes and Lucia takes in her scent, filing it away in her memory banks.

_“Okay, seriously,”_ she says, whirling to look from Norman to Sean, _“who do I have to fuck around here to get a coat like that?”_

Lucia gives an undignified snort, the urge to see how she looks now poking at her curiosity while Sean comforts Eris with a pat on her back and a whisper in her ear about how he loves her coat and wouldn’t want to see her in anything else. She leans into his embrace and he plants a warm kiss on her forehead before looking back at Lucia.

_“You better change back before you wear yourself out. Tonight we’ll take you out.”_

He hooks an arm around Eris’ neck and leads her from the room, closing the door to leave Norman and Lucia alone together once more. With a huff of resignation, Lucia pads into the bathroom, nosing the door shut behind her and prepares to make the Shift back to her human form. Before she does, she takes a minute to raise herself up against the sink and look in the mirror, her mind reeling for a minute as it tries to reconcile the face it always sees with the canine one it’s now presented with. Norman was right about her eyes, the color has deepened to a bright jade with flecks of gold coloring her irises and it sends a shiver down her spine, making her fur stand on end. Her fur! She pushes up just a little higher so she can see as much of her body as she can, wishing she was in Eris’ room with the full length mirror on the door, but what she can see is a coat of rich, dark brown, almost like chocolate, shot through with highlights of red and auburn. As she moves under the soft lighting of the bathroom, she can see the colors change as the light is refracted over it and she understands Eris’ jealousy, it’s certainly breathtaking and she can hardly believe that this is her own body she’s looking at. A resonant gurgle from the direction of her mid-section reminds her that it’s past lunchtime and she hasn’t eaten since breakfast, so she drops back down to all fours and braces herself to make the Shift back.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

After lunch, the four of them spend a lazy afternoon together by the fire, just talking and napping and as the sky outside the windows darkens into evening Lucia feels a small shiver of excitement working its fingers up her spine. She finds that she’s actually looking forward to Shifting again, to spending more time figuring out how her body works now and most of all to getting outside and being free. She can already hear the nocturnal world waking up outside and she’s eager to get out there and see it for herself but Sean insists they wait a few more hours, telling her to just be patient. Feeling a little stir crazy, she wanders the house, poking her head into each of the four bedrooms, familiarizing herself with the layout and then flopping back onto the sofa with an over-dramatic sigh which everybody ignores. Looking around for something to do, her eyes catch sight of a small notebook, laying half under the sofa and she scoops it up, begging Norman to find her something to draw with. He digs up an old ballpoint pen with an apologetic shrug but she takes it anyway and opens the book to a fresh page, letting her mind relax as her fingers take the lead, shaping bold lines across the paper until the room fades around her and she’s consumed by her passion.

She’s startled when Sean clears his throat and announces its okay for them to go out, she was so lost in herself and her creations, quick line sketches of each of them spread across the cheap pages of the notebook. With a sense of barely-suppressed excitement she discards her drawings without a second thought and bounces off of the sofa to follow the others out into the night, shivering with delight as the brisk winter breeze strokes her face. Sean leads them quickly away from the house to the clearing she visited briefly with Norman and they each step to a different part of the space, backs turned to each other to afford a small amount of privacy as they undress and hide their clothing in the undergrowth. Lucia can already feel her body initiating the Shift before she’s even half-undressed and she concentrates to pull herself under control, employing the techniques that Sean showed her and smiling when her body responds. She can hear the sounds of the other taking their alternate forms and once she’s hurriedly tucked away her clothes, she drops to all fours on the icy earth and lets her body have what its craving.

With a small whimpering cry as the final bone snaps into place, Lucia finds herself once again in her wolf form, steadying herself against a rush of dizziness while her brain equalizes to her new state. She pulls in a deep breath through her nose and immediately regrets it as a myriad of scents overwhelms her, making her want to bury her face in the dirt to make them go away until she focuses on one that catches her attention. She senses a presence behind her and knows its Norman before she even turns, his familiar scent seared onto her brain sending all kinds of sparks across her synapses. She turns to meet him as he comes alongside her, nudging his head against her shoulder and lining his body up to hers so she can lean against him. She takes comfort in the strength she can feel in him, the warmth of his body and his nearness calming her as she attempts to reel in her senses, lowering the noise level that’s rushing through her ears until it’s no more than white noise in the background. She looks up as the others approach, surprised to see that Eris’ coat is a deep honey-blond color, gleaming palely under the moonlight filling the clearing. Lucia didn’t really know what she was expecting, with the other woman’s flaming red dye job masking her true color, but it wasn’t this.

She glances at Sean, fully expecting his coat to be similar to Eris’ but his coloring is much darker, almost a silver, peppered with streaks of gunmetal grey, the short hairs around his muzzle shot with the purest white. Hesitantly, she takes a few steps towards them, not sure of the protocol in approaching them in this form but Eris comes forward to meet her, tail wagging behind her as she snuffles at Lucia’s face with small licks and sniffs. With a low whine, Sean catches their attention and sets off among the trees, Eris snapping playfully at his heels, and Lucia looks to Norman who waits for her to follow first before falling in behind her. The woods are alive around them, a constant array of sights, sounds and smells all vying for her attention as she focuses on manipulating her body to do as she wants, her motions a little jerky at first but smoothing out as she follows Eris’ lead. Sean leads them sure-footedly through the darkened woods but to Lucia’s eyes everything is as clear as though she were taking a stroll in the midday sun, her surroundings passing her with startling clarity as she bounds after the bright streak of Eris’ coat, luminous against the foliage.

The path they’re following leads them steadily upwards, into the mountains, Sean gradually increasing their pace until they’re flying among the trees, Lucia’s heart pounding with the exhilaration of just letting her body be free, feeling the wind rippling across her fur and the cool chill of the earth under her paws. As the woods open out onto a rocky area, Sean abruptly comes to a halt and Lucia plows into the back of Eris, her braking system still needing a little practice. With a thud, she flops backwards into a sitting position, mentally laughing at herself, her tongue lolling from her mouth in a canine grin. Norman comes alongside her, nudging her with a small whimper and she stands up, shaking herself from head to tail, then bumps him back to let him know she’s okay. With a small yip, Sean lunges at her, butting her shoulder with his head and then turning to race away from her as she looks after him in confusion, watching his tail disappear among the trees. She swings her head from Norman to Eris and to her surprise they both suddenly turn tail and shoot off in different directions, leaving her standing alone in the empty clearing, her ears swiveling in all directions as she tries to figure out what’s going on. For a minute she stands rooted to the spot, wondering if this is some kind of initiation, is she supposed to find her way back home by herself or should she just wait for them to come back to her? Her questions are answered when she hears a short bark, not too far off, coming from the direction Sean took off in and then two answering barks echo back at her.

Lucia takes a few hesitant steps forward and then stops, a small whine building in the back of her throat, until she hears Sean’s bark come again, seemingly more impatient this time, followed closely by the other two and then suddenly she gets it. It’s not an initiation as such, it’s a game and without a doubt she knows that she’s supposed to find them, track them with her new skills. She sniffs the air in the direction Norman took off in, knowing his trail will be the easiest for her to follow and she catches his scent immediately. With a small bark of her own which makes her giggle inwardly at the sound, she sets off in his direction, nose close to the ground as she picks up his trail among the undergrowth. She follows his winding trek through the trees, losing his scent occasionally as he crosses barren, rocky areas but criss-crossing until she finds it again, until she’s moving with confidence after him, her instincts doing all the work for her. Occasionally she crosses over the trails of the other two and once or twice she catches glimpses of each of them darting through the trees in her peripheral vision and she knows that they’re watching over her, playing with her as she hones her new skills. Eventually, she finds Norman, his dark coat blending into the deep shadows at the base of a knot of trees, almost passing him until the wind changes in her direction and she gets a full blast of his musky aroma filling her nostrils.

With a triumphant bark, she launches herself at him in his hiding spot, nipping playfully at his fur until he nudges her away with his nose and swings his head in the direction of the path once more. With a determined huff of breath, Lucia gets back on track, circling the area with Norman behind her until she comes across Sean’s scent and sets off after him. His trail is slightly harder to follow than Norman’s, he’s a lot more sneaky in covering up after himself and she wonders if Norman made himself easy to find on purpose but she perseveres and pretty soon she finds the scent getting stronger until finally she bursts through a last line of trees and finds him alongside Eris, both with their muzzles lowered to a small stream that’s cutting through the woods. Giving an excited yip, she trots over to them to be greeted with licks and nuzzles from all sides. Norman steers her to the stream’s edge and she dips her head to lap at the cool, fresh-tasting water, careful not to drink too much for fear of giving herself cramps no matter what her form.

After she’s slated her thirst, she lifts her head, tongue coming out automatically to catch the drops around her muzzle, and looks in the direction of the others who are all now sprawled in a heap a few feet from the stream. She pads softly over and lays down next to Norman, curling in against his side and panting slightly as her body rests after the new workout she’s just given it. They all lay together for a while, Lucia examining the woods around her with her newfound senses, still amazed that any of this is even real, let alone happening to her. She tries not to let her mind wander to the future, to what will happen when they go home, that’s something she’s just going to have to deal with as it happens, she tells herself, there’s no use in worrying about it before she needs to, she’ll just drive herself crazy. She looks to Norman, meeting his eyes and gives a soft whine, which he responds to by raising an oversized paw to place over her neck, forcing her head to the ground so that he can lick the fur of her face and head voraciously until she wiggles out from under his grip and takes off into the trees once more, pretty sure she’s headed in the direction of the house.

This time she really pushes her body, testing her limits as she becomes more and more confident in her abilities, feeling the pull of her new muscles as she races through the trees, oblivious to everything except the way the power beneath her skin is making her feel, an almost euphoric high coursing through her. She slows her breakneck speed long enough to turn her head, sensing Norman nearby rather than seeing him, before veering off in a totally new direction away from the house. She hears his questioning bark behind her followed by a series of others from Sean and Eris but she doesn’t slow, a feeling of satisfaction filling her as she senses him coming after her alone, the others carrying on their original path. She runs a little more, letting him come alongside her and then slows to a walk before stopping among the thick trees and turning to face him. He meets her eyes and she can see his look of confusion as plain as if she were looking at his human visage, his head cocked and his ears pointed in her direction. He gives a small questioning snuffle in her direction and she responds by initiating the Shift, hoping he’ll take the hint as soon as he sees her start to change as she doesn’t think she has the power yet to stop it and pull it back once she’s set it in motion. As she feels the fur start to retract across her skin and feels her bones begin to realign themselves, she sees him give a slight dip of his head and walk away from her, out of her sight, to initiate his own change.

The pain is a little more intense this time, maybe because she’s starting to spend longer in her wolf form, and she gives a sharp cry as the last jolt shoots through her, clutching at her mid-section for a moment as she catches her breath. She feels him slip his hands down her upper arms from behind, his touch firm and hot against her flushed skin as he turns her to face him, a look of concern set on his face.

_“Are you okay?”_ he asks, his voice a little raspy, sending shivers down her spine.

_“I’m fine,”_ she replies, reaching up to wrap her hands around his forearms and give them a reassuring squeeze. _“Better than fine, in fact. I feel amazing, my body is on fire, I can feel everything. I can’t believe I was scared of this, that I didn’t want it.”_

_“Oh babe, of course you were scared. It wasn’t your choice but I told you, it’s not a curse, it’s a gift.”_

_“I know, I see that now. I just wanted to tell you that I’m not scared anymore, I feel completely alive, like I’m riding the most intense high I’ve ever had. It’s like finishing the most amazing painting I’ve ever done and putting all the washers on spin! I know, I know, I’m babbling. I couldn’t wait to get home to tell you. I feel like I’m drunk,”_ she finishes with a laugh as his face breaks into a huge grin.

_“Well, you know that drunk Lucia is my favorite,”_ he says, leaning in to plant a hot kiss against her lips.

Lucia is suddenly very aware of the fact that they’re both completely naked but she doesn’t feel the sense of panic that being caught without clothes would normally bring, instead she feels a sense of liberation, reveling in the heat radiating between them where their bodies are almost touching. He leans back from the kiss and she stares at him, her mind suddenly awash with memories.

_“What?”_ he questions her, his hands still hot against her skin, his touch sending a delightful warmth throughout her body.

_“When we were at the cabin, that night you woke me up and just… took me. You’d just come back from Shifting, hadn’t you? You were all hopped up on wolf-juice, weren’t you?”_

She watches as his eyes go wide, a blush darkening his face as he averts his eyes from hers and looks at the ground.

_“I, umm…”_ he mumbles.

Closing the tiny gap between them until her body is pressed tightly against his, Lucia reaches up to clasp the back of his neck in her hand, digging her fingers into his unruly hair as she dips her head to kiss at his collarbone. She feels a tremor run though his body under her lips as she works her way up his neck to his ear, nipping and sucking as she goes before teasing his earlobe with her teeth.

_“Do you remember how you felt that night?”_ she whispers in his ear, pressing her torso tighter against his and being rewarded with the feel of his cock, rubbing hard into her belly. _“Well, I’m pretty sure that’s how I’m feeling right now.”_

She pulls off from his ear, smiling as she meets his lust-blown eyes, the black of his pupils dominating the blue as he digests her words. She doesn’t give him a chance to react though, suddenly pushing against him to shove him bodily back against the tree behind him, following his momentum to shove her body back against his, capturing his lips in a deep kiss. He grunts a little as his spine connects with the solid trunk but his hands are already wrapping around her hips, pulling her tight against him as she opens her mouth to him, tangling her tongue with his. He kisses her furiously until she’s whining deep in her throat, moving to straddle his thigh so that she can rub herself against him, the coarse hairs on his skin prickling roughly over her clit as she slicks him with her wetness. He moans into her mouth, unexpectedly pushing her away from him and she steps back, panting hard, her arousal igniting by the sight of his eyes blazing yellow from beneath his bangs. He growls softly at her, showing just the merest hint of fangs and she thinks she’s never been so turned on in her life. With a guttural moan, he grabs her once more, throwing her to the hard ground and following her down, digging his fingers into the back of her thighs as he parts her legs and drags them around his waist.

He leans down over her and, as he thrusts into her, she bites hard on his shoulder, stifling a scream as he fills her. She wraps her arms tight around his torso, clinging to him as he pounds into her, raking her fingernails deep against his skin, feeling him shudder under her onslaught.

_“Don’t hold back,”_ she whispers breathlessly against his feverish skin and tightens her pussy around him as he pushes deep inside of her. _“If you ever did before, don’t do it now.”_

He growls into her ear, his teeth grazing at the skin along the underside of her jaw as he works his way to capture her mouth, her tongue sliding into his to run over the tips of his slight fangs. The feel of him sliding into her is making her want to come but she doesn’t want it to end just yet so, with a grunt of effort, she pushes up under him, gratified when he follows her lead and she rolls him onto his back, raising onto her knees to straddle him, slowing the pace of his thrusts as she takes control. Keeping up a gentle rocking motion, she rides his cock slowly, reaching down to graze her fingers across his torso, teasing at his hardened nipples with her nails. With a shuddering sigh, Lucia leans back, bringing her hands to rest behind her on his thighs and closing her eyes as she rolls her hips into his, over and over, his cock pushing into her tightness. She feels his hands slide up her thighs and gently his fingers splay over her abdomen as he strokes downwards with his thumb until he’s pressing against her swollen, slick clit and she bites her lip as she loses herself under his caress.

_“Yessss…”_ she breathes out, her voice low and intimate, _“Norman… yessss…”_

She undulates against him, feeling him push his hips up into her as he rolls his thumb over her sensitive nerve-endings and she opens her eyes as she comes, watching his face while he teases every last shudder from her body and then lets himself go, his eyes blazing again as he bucks under her while she squeezes tight around him. When his body relaxes under hers, she lowers herself forwards to lay on his chest, her head tucked tightly against his neck, his arms wrapping her in a firm embrace as she listens to his heart pounding and the sound of the blood pulsing in his veins.

_“You’re amazing,”_ he mumbles against her hair, stroking the bumps of her spine.

_“You’re pretty amazing yourself,”_ she replies, tilting up her head to look at him and plant a long kiss on his lips. _“Did I… you know? Did any part of me wolf out while we were…? I could feel all kinds of things were heightened but, after a certain point, I couldn’t tell what was going on.”_

_“You mean apart from your ears?”_ he teases her with a chuckle, smiling as she instinctively reaches a hand up to touch her ears. _“No, babe, no fur or fangs, I swear. Just your eyes.”_

Lucia gives a small huff of relief, glad that everything had pretty much stayed under control, not wanting him to be freaked out if she suddenly was wearing a fur coat while they were making love. Pushing up off of him, she gets to her feet, stretching her arms to the sky as he follows her up.

_“Ready to go back?”_ she asks and he nods, giving her one last kiss before turning his back to her to let her Shift.

This time there’s barely any pain apart from the very last twist of sinew and bone molding to its new shape and Lucia wonders if it has something to do with the extreme state of relaxation her body is in at the moment. She makes a mental note to propose to Norman that they have mind-blowing sex every time they Shift and then, laughing to herself, she gives her body a good shake before turning her nose in the direction of the house and setting off at a steady run, Norman keeping pace beside her.

When they finally reach the clearing close to the house where they stashed their clothes and they make the Shift back, Lucia’s body is starting to ache from the different stresses she’s been putting it under over the past few hours. She winces a little as she pulls on her jeans and shirt, leaning gratefully against Norman as he wraps an arm around her waist and leads her back to the house. Eris and Sean are nowhere to be seen but Lucia can hear them upstairs in their room, turning down the murmur of their voices so as not to eavesdrop on their conversation.

_“Shame, shame!”_ comes Sean’s mocking voice through the door as she and Norman pass by, followed by the resounding slap of a hand on bare flesh and his muffled protest.

Blushing, Lucia tows Norman to their room, firmly closing the door behind them and then heading into the bathroom to turn on the shower. Norman follows her, leaning in the doorway as he watches her undress and she smiles over at him, reaching out to pull his shirt over his head and help him out of his jeans before stepping into the shower with him and letting the water cascade over them both, her eyes starting to feel heavy with sleep as he gently shampoos her hair. By the time he’s finished taking care of her she can barely stand, she’s so tired and the last thing she remembers is him carrying her to their bed.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

They sleep late the next morning, only waking up when the sound of something heavy being dropped on the stairs, followed by the sound of feminine cursing pulls them from their slumber. Wiping the sleep from her eyes, Lucia rolls over and sits up, yawning as another thump from downstairs penetrates her brain and she grabs Eris’ robe from the back of the door and slips it over her naked form.

_“What the hell is going on?”_ she asks Norman but he just grunts at her, reaching to pull on his jeans as she opens the door and heads downstairs.

There she finds Eris wrestling an enormous suitcase down the last few steps and over to the door.

_“You’re leaving already?”_ she asks, a little shocked.

_“Yes,”_ replies Eris, coming over to meet her at the base of the staircase, _“Sean has work commitments he really can’t get out of.”_

_“But you only just got here. We’ve barely had any time together.”_

_“Aw, I know, sweetie, but you’ll do just fine without me. You’ve got this and I’m only a phone call away if you need to talk.”_

Lucia opens her mouth to protest again, a small knot of panic rising in her throat at the thought of losing two thirds of her support system when she felt like she’d barely even got a grasp on what she was supposed to be doing, but her sentence is swallowed up by Sean throwing open the front door with a bang.

_“Time to go, woman,”_ he shouts in Eris’ direction then catches sight of Lucia standing forlornly on the stairs.

_“I can’t believe you’re going already,”_ she tells him, feeling the prickle of tears against her eyelids.

_“Oh darlin’, c’mere,”_ he says, wrapping her into an enormous bearhug. _“You’re gonna be fine, I promise. My boy will take care of you, you’re the most important thing in his life and don’t you forget it. And if he fucks up then he’ll have me to deal with, okay?”_

Lucia nods into his shoulder, willing her tears not to fall.

_“And just remember the most important thing,”_ Sean adds, holding her away from him to look sincerely into her eyes, _“I’ve seen you naked!”_

_“Alright, that’s it!”_ yells Eris from across the hall, _“we’re outta here.”_

She walks over, elbowing Sean out of the way and throws her arms around Lucia and this time Lucia can’t stop the tears from trickling down her face.

_“I’m going to miss you,”_ she sniffles, squeezing Eris as tight as she can. _“I don’t know how I’m ever going to thank you for everything you’ve done. Oh, your clothes, I have to get them back to you.”_

_“Don’t sweat it, just give them to me the next time you see me. I’m sure it won’t be long before these two get into some other kind of trouble and we have to bail them out.”_

She lets Lucia go and moves to hug Norman who has joined them on the stairs.

_“Reedus.”_

_“Discordia.”_

_“Try to behave yourself,”_ she tells him with a roll of her eyes as he gives her a tight squeeze and then lets her go to give Sean a hug, complete with enough manly back-slapping that Lucia’s eyes water even more.

Then just like that, they’re gone, the echoes of their goodbyes still ringing around Lucia’s brain as she presses herself against Norman’s chest and wraps her arms tight around his waist.

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never add any kind of note but I just wanted to thank everyone for sticking with me while I work through my wolfy feels. I am so amazed that anybody even reads it. I'm grateful to each and every one of you. ♥
> 
> I also just wanted to take a second to promote something that is very precious to me if you'll indulge me. For those of you who also use tumblr, please, please go show some appreciation for the real-life Lucia who has made for me the most incredible WereNorm art. You can find the post here...
> 
> http://tmd-dump-station.tumblr.com/post/91992532228/beware-from-the-werenorm-dedicated-to-my-lovely
> 
> Thank you once again and I hope everyone enjoys the rest of my little tale. :)

Norman and Lucia spend the next couple of days in Highland, Norman wanting to make sure that she’s ready for taking the trip back to the city. Lucia insists that she ready to go immediately but he stands his ground, claiming that she needs more time to adjust before they leave and, when she doesn’t give him more than a half-hearted fight, he knows that she agrees with him deep down. So they spend their time out in the woods as much as possible, Lucia learning to harness her senses so that she doesn’t find them so overwhelming during the daylight hours and then, as soon as the sun goes down, they Shift and he takes time to teach her skills she’ll need in her other form. Deep in the wilderness, Norman has her initiate the Shift back and forth multiple times throughout the nights until her body is performing the change as fluidly as if she’d been born with it and he no longer hears the whimper of pain coming from her in her final moments. In her human form, he tries to impart some of the things he’s learned over the years about being his other self but he knows that most of it is just instinct and things that can’t be taught. They hunt together, chasing rabbits for the sheer fun of it but she stops short at devouring their prey, letting him take that final step.

By the third morning, he can see that she’s antsy to get moving, can read her anxiousness in every line of her body, so they climb back into Jake’s car and set off for home. Norman takes the trip a little more slowly this time, being mindful to keep to the speed limits so as not to draw unwanted attention and, by the time they pull up a few blocks from his apartment building, the sky is fully dark. With Lucia shivering a little now they’re back in the deep snow covering the city despite her increased body temperature, he hurries them inside, ignoring the curious glance from Rodrigo at the front desk and ushering her into the elevator. He feels a stab of recollection as he opens the door, the apartment untouched from the last time he returned home, his backpack still on the floor and the wrappings from Lucia’s painting scattered on the rug from where he’d torn into it. He feels her stiffen a little at his side as she catches sight of the dinner preparation she had carefully laid out before heading out to the store and he rubs a hand reassuringly at the base of her spine until he feels her relax again. As EITD streaks across the room and into his arms, purring like a maniac, he tries to digest how so much could have changed in such a short amount of time and he suddenly feels weary to his core.

_“Where’s Beegle?”_ Lucia asks and he can hear the quaver in her voice.

_“Probably downstairs with Mrs. H, I’ll go get him. Here, take Fatso,”_ he tells her, handing off a disgruntled EITD who clings to his shirt with his claws.

He takes the elevator back down two floors, smiling as he hears Beegle’s excited whining the second he steps off into the hallway and approaches his neighbor’s door. The whining turns into a full-on bark as he rings the buzzer and he can hear Mrs. H’s stern tones as she tell Beegle to be quiet before pulling open the door and greeting him with a huge bearhug once she sees who it is, her ample frame squishing him tight as Beegle bounces up against his thighs. He thanks her profusely for taking care of the animals and she waves away his offer of payment with an indignant hand as she always does, telling him it’s her pleasure and she hopes Lucia’s doing okay. He says that she’s just tired from their trip and he’s sure that she’ll be down to see her soon, thanks her once more and then takes Beegle back upstairs. When he opens the apartment door, Beegle races past him, screeching to a halt on the shiny, wooden floor as he catches the strange new scent in his home, his hackles rising automatically. Lucia approaches him from across the room and Norman can see the confusion running across the small dog’s features as he dances in place, whining fitfully, trying to figure out why the person he loves most in the world no longer smells the same. Lucia stops in her tracks, keeping perfectly still and waits for him to make a move, watching as he looks first at her and then at Norman who gives him a nudge in her direction to let him know it’s okay. Hesitantly, Beegle crosses the living room, reaching out to sniff at Lucia’s outstretched hand before giving it a perfunctory lick, his tail slowly starting to wag as she reaches gently to tickle behind his ears. With a sudden yip that makes Norman jump, Beegle seems to suddenly realize that this is indeed his mama no matter how she smells and launches himself at her, Lucia dropping to her knees to wrestle him into a hug.

Norman chuckles softly to himself, crossing into the kitchen and flicking on the coffee maker, silently putting away the utensils Lucia had left out for making dinner while she plays with Beegle on the floor. With that done, he pulls open one of the kitchen drawers and rummages until he finds an old pack of smokes lurking at the back, shaking it to makes sure there’s still some inside before he crosses to the patio door and unlocks it to step out into the frigid winter air, kicking the snow away from the entrance as he goes. He shuffles across to the low wall surrounding the balcony, the snow clinging wetly to his jeans, and leans against it, tapping out a cigarette and lighting it as he looks out across the city rooftops, glad to be home. He inhales deeply, waiting until he can feel the smoke burning at his lungs before he lets it go in a smooth breath, watching it stream away into the clear night sky. The very act of smoking, the routine as much as the effect of the nicotine, calms him, it always has and no matter how much Sean strives to get him to stop he’s not sure that he ever will. _It’s not like it’s going to kill me,_ he thinks wryly as he sucks in another lungful and then shoots it skywards. He doesn’t notice Lucia behind him, the snow muffling her footsteps and the smoke masking her scent, until her small hands wrap around his waist and she leans into his side, reaching to take the cigarette from him and slip it between her own lips as he lifts an arm to wrap around her shoulder.

_“How are you doing, baby?”_ he asks, nuzzling his face against her hair as she drags deeply on his cigarette before handing it back to him.

_“Glad to be home. Wondering if I’m going to wake up in our bed tomorrow and find this was all some crazy hallucination.”_

He turns her face to his, taking a long look into her eyes before he moves forward to tease her lips with a soft pressure that has her pushing against him, her lips parting to run her tongue along his, the taste of the cigarette strong on her breath.

_“Not a hallucination, babe,”_ he sighs, breaking the kiss after a few minutes.

_“Mmm,”_ is the only reply she makes, tucking her head back against his neck.

_“Lucia, I want you to do something for me and I know you’re probably not going to want to and you’re most likely going to fight me on it but it’s non-negotiable.”_

She leans back from him a little so she can see his face and he swallows thickly before continuing.

_“I want you to move in with me. As soon as possible. Tomorrow in fact. We can go over in the morning and start packing your stuff,”_ he blurts out all in one breath and then stops to let his words sink in.

_“What about Mingus? I can’t just descend on his home when he’s not even here. I know you’ve told him about us but hearing your dad has a new girlfriend and coming back to find he’s moved her in is a whole different ball game.”_

_“I’ll handle Mingus, trust me. He’ll be fine, he’ll love you in no time.”_

_“Will he?”_ Lucia asks, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

_“Well no,”_ Norman laughs, _“probably not. But he will, I promise. I’m not taking no as an answer on this, Lucia. I don’t care if you think I’m being a chauvinistic pig, I need you with me. I have to know that you’re safe. You practically live here anyway so will it really be that hard to make it permanent?”_

_‘But I love my apartment,”_ she sighs but he can hear the change in her voice that lets him know she’s already on board with his idea, maybe had been thinking the same thing all along.

_“And you love mine more!”_ he chides, gently bumping his hip against hers. _“We can clean out the guest room, make you a little studio and just think, when summer comes, you’ll be able to set up out here and create to your heart’s content.”_

Lucia grumbles something under her breath about him knowing the best form of bribery and he hides a smile as she takes his cigarette one more time and blows a stream of white smoke over her shoulder before looking him in the eye once more.

_“And then what?”_ she asks and he gives her a puzzled frown.

_“Say I move in with you and this isn’t some kind of crazy dream I’m having, I’m wondering what we do next.”_

_“We live amazing lives, that’s what we do next, baby,”_ he tells her, taking one last drag on the cigarette before crushing it into the snow lining the top of the wall and turning her back to the brightly-lit apartment. _“Come on. Let’s go start.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

True to his word and despite her progressively weaker protests, Norman drives them over to her apartment the next day, detouring at a packing company on the way to pick up supplies and they spend the next few days transferring Lucia’s life to her new home. With the last of her belongings safely secured in a rental truck outside, Norman holds her in his arms while she sobs her goodbyes to the place she worked so hard to call her own. She’s left the sale of the place and her remaining furniture to him, claiming it would be too hard for her to do that part and he has people lined up, waiting in the wings to swoop in and take care of everything, wanting to make the transition as painless as possible for her. With a final sniffle, she lets him lead her away, locking the door for the last time and when he looks over at her as he steers the truck through the city traffic, he sees a new look on her face, one he’s come to recognize as her ‘acceptance of fate’ look and he knows she’s going to be okay. Personally he’s overjoyed that she didn’t give him more of a fight over the whole situation, a part of him was all geared up with a slew of arguments as to why it was the best thing for her to do but deep down he knew there was only one argument that mattered to him and that was the issue of her safety. He needed to know she was protected no matter how old-fashioned that might seem or how it might offend her sense of independence, he just needed her to be safe and by his side seemed the only place he could be sure of that happening.

The harsh grip of a New York winter kept them deep in snow until late February before it finally relented and gave way to copious amounts of rain instead, washing the streets clean of the dirty slush that was painting the sidewalks a dreary grey. Christmas passed in a blur of work engagements and socializing with both his friends and hers, by some unspoken agreement they stopped making an effort to keep their relationship a secret and by the time January rolled around their pictures were splashed across the tabloids and the internet gossip sites, proclaiming “Walking Dead star seen with mystery date again” but no mention was made of Lucia’s name, her anonymity keeping her a mystery for just a little longer. When she’d agreed to accompany him to L.A. for a round of interviews and public appearances, he was over the moon, taking every opportunity to introduce her to his friends, happy with the way she fit right in with the people he calls his family just like he knew she would. He can see the changes in her that their secret has brought about, see the confidence in her bearing as she watches him with fans, no longer feeling the need to step away and turn her face as other women fawn all over him. But at home, she’s still his same adorable, goofy Lucia, crying at the tv or throwing food at him in the kitchen when he dares to steal from her pans, cursing at him in Italian for leaving wet towels on the floor and chasing him in a fury every time he scares her with one of his masks. He’s also seen the change in her art as he’d hoped he might, the intensity with which she loses herself in her painting or her digital work igniting a fire in his soul, so much so, that within weeks of them being back in the city she was gearing up to put on a show of her new work at a gallery she’s shown at before.

As soon as they’d returned to the city, Norman had called Jake to let him know they were back and everything was good and Lucia had insisted he come over for dinner as just a small thank you for what he’d done for them. Without the stress of their previous meeting, he and Lucia hit it off immediately much to his delight and to Norman’s feigned annoyance, becoming a regular visitor to their home for dinner, Lucia concerned that his job kept him from eating properly. Secretly Norman was pleased that they got along so well, feeling secure in the knowledge that, if he was away from home, Jake would be on hand to keep an eye on her although he kept that fact between him and Jake. Even though he knew the danger had passed and Jake had done a seamless cover up job, his inherent instinct to make sure his mate was protected at all times was rooted so deep in his psyche that he sometimes wanted to lock her away where nothing could ever possibly harm her.

He was just pondering the thought, one evening, of investing in a deserted island where he could hide her away from the world, the two of them living on coconuts and bananas for the rest of their days, when he sees Beegle suddenly jump up and make a beeline for the door, tail wagging furiously. Two seconds later the door buzzer sounds and Beegle’s excitement ramps up even further.

_“It’s open,”_ yells Norman, not wanting to relinquish his spot on the sofa and the door opens to reveal Jake, a 6-pack of imported beer under one arm.

_“For someone so hell bent on security, you’d think that you’d check who was at your door before inviting them in,”_ says Jake, bending to greet Beegle and slip him a dog treat from his pocket.

_“Well, I have my built-in bullshit detector,”_ replies Norman, nodding his head at Beegle, _“so I knew it had to be you.”_

_“Fuck you,”_ counters Jake, detouring across to the kitchen to put the beer in the fridge just as Lucia enters the room, talking rapidly into the phone pressed to her ear and waving Jake away with an impatient hand when he tries to plant a kiss on her cheek.

_“Don’t bug her, man,”_ Norman tells him quietly as he makes room on the sofa. _“She’s all riled up over her show, there’s only a few days left.”_

_“I know and she still hasn’t found me the date she promised me,”_ answers Jake, raising his voice in Lucia’s direction and being rewarded by her flipping him the finger. _“Oh real nice, very ladylike. Did you teach her that?”_

_“Pfft,”_ Norman snorts. _“Hey, you wanna see something cool?”_

Jake nods and Norman reaches down beside the sofa to pull out plain white box which he carefully opens to reveal a perfect scale replica of himself in full Daryl Dixon mode, complete with crossbow and poncho.

_“It’s the prototype from the scans I had done last month,”_ he informs Jake, handing him the box.

_“Are you shitting me?”_ Jake asks, lifting the eerily close likeness of his friend from the box and turning it in his hands. _“Isn’t it bad enough that I have to see your ugly mug staring at me from every newsstand when I go to buy a paper, now they’re making dolls of you?”_

_“Ha, you’re just jealous because nobody’s made a ‘Jake Wolfe: Ace Detective’ figure yet,”_ Norman says, taking it from Jake’s hands and placing it carefully back in the box, _“and it’s not a doll, it’s an action figure.”_

_“Looks like a doll to me? Does it come with another cute outfit, maybe some accessories for all the girls to play with?”_

Before Norman can get out a comeback, Lucia finishes her call and flops on the sofa between them, wriggling to make room, turning her body to lean against his so she can put her feet firmly in Jake’s lap.

_“I am so done with this show. I’m about to call the whole thing off,”_ she moans, leaning her head back against Norman’s shoulder and he wraps his arm across her chest, holding her to him and stroking her upper arm with the ball of his thumb.

_“You can’t,”_ Jake tells her. _“You promised me a woman!’_

Norman chuckles as she digs her heel into Jake’s thigh eliciting a pained grunt from him.

_“And what was wrong with the first three I found you?”_ she asks, only letting up the pressure when he tickles the sole of her foot. _“Maybe I’m barking up the wrong tree, so to speak. Jake, is there something you’d like to tell us? You don’t have to be shy, you’re among friends now.”_

_“You’ve been living with him for too long already,”_ growls Jake, pointing an accusing finger at Norman and glaring at them both. _“For your information, I like my women like I like my cars – strong, supportive and feels good underneath me. The ladies you’ve set me up with already, while each lovely in their own way, were just missing something, that indefinable spark.”_

_“So, you want somebody that’s not afraid to call you on your bullshit is what you actually mean, right?”_ asks Lucia thoughtfully.

_“Someone who can make you their bitch,”_ throws in Norman with a laugh.

_“Tell me why I come here again?”_ Jake asks, throwing up his hands in mock indignation.

_“Because no one else will have you?”_ Lucia responds, climbing off of the sofa and heading back to the kitchen, leaving Jake punching Norman hard on the arm. _“Don’t worry, I have one more ace up my sleeve for you. I was holding her in reserve but now I’m thinking she might just be perfect.”_

_“You’ve been holding out on me?”_

_“Well, she lives outside the city but she’s coming in for the show this weekend so it means you won’t get to meet her till then.”_

_“Hmm, a blind date, huh? I don’t know about that, it seems a little risky.”_

_“It’s one night! It won’t kill you and I have a feeling you’ll thank me for it later,”_ Lucia tells him, dishing dinner onto three plates and carrying them to the dining table. _“Trust me.”_

Jake looks to Norman and he nods his agreement, knowing perfectly well who Lucia has in mind and curious to see how the date will play out.

_“Okay then, I’m trusting you guys not to do me wrong here. Don’t forget I have enough dirt on your boy here to make payback a bitch!”_ Jake warns them as they all take seats at the table and begin eating. _“Oh, talking of dirt, I see that someone over at TMZ finally figured out who you are, Lucia, and you are no longer the mystery woman in Reedus’ life!”_

Norman swallows too fast, coughing on his food as he makes furious gestures to Jake to stop talking but it’s too late. Across the table he sees Lucia’s face darken into a scowl and he braces himself for the explosion he knows is inevitable.

_“You saw it?”_ she asks Jake coolly.

_“Sure did. You looked good, they even showed some of your art. What’s wrong?”_

_“Well, let’s ignore for a moment the fact that they called me a ‘new face on the art scene’ who’s using Norman’s popularity to boost interest in my show and let’s concentrate on the fact that they said I was 25, shall we? I mean, where do they get this crap from?”_

_“What’s wrong with them thinking your only 25? Isn’t that what all women want, to be thought of as younger than they are? And in our unique situation isn’t it even better if they think you’re younger?”_

_“Not when Norman’s 45,”_ Lucia yells, making Jake flinch a little. _“I don’t want to be branded as some gold-digging, wannabe floozy who’s just dating him to further my career. I’ve been doing this for the better part of my life, I’ve earned my way and every damn year under my belt. I told them that in no uncertain terms!”_

_“You told them?”_

_“She emailed them,”_ Norman adds with a sigh, _“demanded they get their facts straight.”_

_“Damn right I emailed them. Bunch of incompetent assholes.”_

Jake looks from one of them to the other, disbelief etched on his face.

_“I think I’m going to need more wine for this,”_ he states, holding out his glass across the table.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

After dinner and with a slightly inebriated Jake poured carefully in a cab and sent home, Norman comes out of the bathroom, ready for bed, to find Lucia still glued to her laptop, a small frown creasing her forehead. With a barely audible sigh, he approaches the bed, switching off the main light and crawls across until he’s kneeling beside her.

_“Time to switch it off, baby,”_ he says softly.

_“In a minute, I just have to go over the guest list once more, I keep thinking I’ve forgotten someone.”_

_“Nope,”_ he tells her, taking the laptop firmly out of her grasp and ignoring her little mewl of displeasure as he leans back to slide it onto his bedside table. _“The guest list will still be there in the morning and I’m pretty sure you would have noticed if you’d forgotten someone in the first hundred times you checked it. Right now you need to rest and recharge a little, stop driving yourself so crazy. You can be crazy again tomorrow. Now, hand it over.”_

_“What?”_ she asks him, giving him her best wide-eyed look of innocence.

_“Your cell phone.”_

_“I don’t have it, it’s charging in the other room.”_

_“Really?”_ he asks, knowing that she’s lying.

_“Uh-huh.”_

He looks at her intently for a minute, letting a slow smile slide across his features so she thinks she has him fooled and then pounces, throwing his leg over her thighs and straddling her, pinning her in place as his hands dive to either side of her, searching for her phone. She tries to get the best of him but he’s just too quick for her, pulling out her phone from under the covers with a victorious ‘Ha!’ and holding it over his head where she can’t reach it.

_“I just want to look at one thing and you can turn it off, I swear,”_ she pleads with him, fingers stroking down his bare chest as she licks her lips.

_“Nope, you’re done for the day, lady. I’m cutting you off,”_ he tells her, trying to ignore the tremors that her feather-light touch is sending across his skin.

_“Please,”_ she breathes out huskily, a small pout on her lips and her green eyes imploring him as she trails her fingers lower, nails circling through the hair below his navel. _“I’ll make it worth your while.”_

Norman swallows thickly, feeling the familiar stirring of arousal in the pit of his stomach and, with one deft move, he brings the phone down from above his head and thrusts it into the waistband of his boxer-briefs, the cool metal making his cock twitch as it slides against it.

_“Really?”_ asks Lucia, cocking her head at him. _“Are we twelve? If you think that’s going to stop me, you’re sadly mistaken, Wolf-Boy.”_

With an easy burst of strength, she pushes his laughing form off of her, tipping him onto the bed beside her and following through to pin his torso with her upper body while she delves a hand into his underwear making him twitch even harder as she manhandles him to grasp at her phone. She sits up with a smug look on her face but, before she can even turn it on, he moves to her, catching her face in his hands and starts kissing her. She makes a slight, muffled protest but then her body relaxes into his touch, her lips soft and pliant under his as he teases them with the tip of his tongue, dipping progressively deeper between them. His hands slide down, pulling her body gently into his until she’s half-sitting on his lap as he gives her what is probably the most sensual kiss he’s ever given in his life. He kisses her like there’s nothing else he ever wants or needs to do in his life, like this is the most important moment in his existence, nothing else matters, his friends, his job, his family, all of it fades to nothing in this moment with her. He’s dimly aware of her phone slipping from her fingers to land with a soft thud against the bed as her hands reach around to stroke at his back, her soft caress of his skin further igniting the passion in his belly.

He kisses her for an eternity, their breathing syncing to the same rhythm, their bodies pressed comfortably together, slotting together with a familiarity that makes his heart sing. With slow, careful movements he reaches for the edge of his t-shirt that she’s wearing and tugs it gently upwards. She gives the slightest moan against his lips and pulls back from his kiss, the void left in her absence creating an ache in his chest. She runs a tongue over the swollen plumpness of her lips, her vibrant green eyes sparkling as she watches his face, waiting for him to make the next move.

_“I love you,”_ he says, his heart expanding in his chest at the smile that lights up her face, thinking that he can never tell her enough how much she means to him, there aren’t enough adequate words on the planet to describe the way he feels about her.

_“I love you too,”_ she whispers and leans forward to place another sweet kiss on his lips.

This time when they part, he slips his hands under the bottom edge of the t-shirt and pushes it up, slowly exposing her skin inch by inch, feeling her breath catch a little as he tightens it over the ripe hardness of her nipples and then lets her breasts fall free as he moves it above them. With one hand clenched tightly in the rolled up material, he dips his head, his other hand coming up to cup the underside of her breast as he ghosts his breath across her flesh, watching in delight as he leaves a trail of goosebumps in his wake. His first tease of her nipple with his tongue brings forth a long purring sound from deep in her throat that he feels all the way to the base of his spine. He sucks the erect bud into his mouth, his lips closing around it as he rolls his tongue tip across it, pulling it slightly. He takes his time, using his mouth and his hand to pay attention to every inch of her breast before he moves to the other one to repeat his ministrations.

By the time he’s finished with both, her chest is heaving under his lips and she has both her hands embedded firmly in his hair. With one last swipe of his tongue up the side of her neck, he leans back, pulling his head from her grasp and grins widely at her.

_“Still want to keep working?”_ he asks teasingly, resting his hands on her thighs, his eyes flicking to the dark patch of hair where they meet, the scent of her arousal tickling at his nostrils.

_“The only thing I want working right now is you inside of me,”_ she replies, staring him in the eye before peeling his t-shirt off over her head and laying back on the bed, parting her thighs just enough to give him a tantalizing glimpse of her cherry-pink folds that has him salivating at the mere thought of slipping inside her. He quickly strips out of his underwear and moves over her, trailing soft kisses up the inside of her thigh, letting his beard tickle at her sensitive skin until she’s chuckling throatily above him and then he gently pushes her thighs further apart, the sight of her glistening pussy open before him stirring the beast within him just a little. He lets go a low, rumbling growl as he presses his tongue into her slickness, the musky taste of her coating his tastebuds and it’s all he can do not to devour her in an instant, knowing he can make her come as easily as snapping his fingers but wanting to make this experience last as long as possible.

He eases back a little, working at her with long, slow strokes, running the flat of his tongue up from bottom to top over and over, making her pleasure his only priority. When she groans above him, fingers raking through his hair to tug lightly at his roots, he knows it’s her signal for him to make her come, that she’s done with the teasing. A lot of the time he’ll ignore that signal, pushing her further and further until she’s cursing him out but this isn’t the right time for that and he knows it. Taking his fingers, he pushes open her folds, fully exposing the engorged darkness of her clit to him and he sucks it between his lips, pulling it slightly before releasing it to rub his tongue around it. Lucia is writhing under him, his name dropping from her lips like tiny explosions of stimulation to his throbbing cock which he has pressed firmly into the bedding, trying not to let his own needs distract him until he’s taken care of hers.

He breathes deep, inhaling the very essence of her and pulls out his favorite trick, tracing his name over her clit with the tip of his tongue, spelling out the letters with quick darts, listening to the rapid thump of her heart rate as her orgasm builds, feeling the tell-tale tremble under his tongue as he pushes her over the edge. She heaves up under him, her body jerking as she comes against his tongue, the spasms pulsing inside of her vibrating out to tickle his lips as he keeps up his pace against her clit, making sure he’s pulled every last shudder from her before he gives a final lick and lifts his face to hers. He catches his breath at the sight of her, seeing her eyes wide and glowing with a soft golden hue, her pupils dilated to two pools of black ink in their centers, her face flushed and her lips parted to show just the tiniest hint of fang digging into her bottom lip. She pulls his face up to hers, smothering him in tiny kisses across his cheeks, brow and eyelids before she takes his mouth in a breathless kiss, sucking eagerly at his tongue.

He leverages his weight over her, feeling the press of her breasts hot against his skin, her nipples hard on his chest. As he shifts further up to meet the intensity of her kiss, his cock slides deliciously against the wetness between her thighs and she nips at his lower lip with her teeth, angling her hips up towards him. He doesn’t need a second invitation, just changes position slightly and pushes into her, feeling her wet heat part around him like silk, enveloping his length in her tight embrace. Taking his weight on his elbows and with Lucia’s ankles crossed at the small of his back, holding him to her, he starts a slow deliberate slide in and out of her, setting an even pace that lets him feel every sensation as she squeezes around him. He holds her gaze, undulating his hips against her, feeling the sweat break out on his back and sides as he pushes past the tight ring of her pussy with every thrust, watching the small smile quirking at the corner of her lips as she clenches even tighter round him and he gasps hard.

He lowers himself to kiss her, closing his eyes and losing himself in this, the heat rising from her body below him to wrap around him, the slide of his flesh against hers driving him crazy. He knows that she likes to be on top, hell he loves her to be on top, but there’s something about this position that feels the most intimate to him, his body protecting hers, her sweet mouth always within reach, the way he can feel the flutter of nerves across the skin of her stomach as he slides home. He’s always more than satisfied with their wild, crazy, passionate love-making but sometimes the slow burn of taking it nice and easy appeals to him too and he knows that Lucia feels it too, as much as she’s always ready with a suggestion of a new position or a new place to do it. He doesn’t think his love-life has ever been quite so adventurous and she actually surprised him with her openness to try new things. Early on in their days in New York, they had been taking a cab-ride home after a late dinner, the two bottles of wine they’d drunk with their meal loosening their inhibitions until she had whispered a confession in his ear that she would try anything once. After all, she told him, how do I know I don’t like something if I never try it? His cock had grown rock hard at the mere possibilities and they had made out so furiously the rest of the way home that the cab driver had actually had to come around and open their door to get them out.

But, as invigorating as making the city their sexual playground was, there was just as much to be said for being wrapped up in their own bed, concentrating solely on each other, taking as long as they needed to fulfill their desires. Norman opens his eyes, pushing back up on his elbows so that he can look down at her face while she reaches up to stroke his cheek and slide her fingers over his shoulders, down his back and dig them into the soft flesh of his ass, tightening her legs around him to pull him deeper into her. He holds out as long as he can but finally there’s a familiar tightening in his balls and he speeds up his pace to give him enough friction to finish, burying his face in her neck as he explodes inside her, feeling the soothing caress of her hands on his back until he’s done. He collapses momentarily against her, breath gasping in his lungs and then raises himself up, slipping from her and kissing the side of her neck as he rolls away, knowing that she hates to be pinned like that. He lays next to her, one leg hooked over her thigh, his hand resting against the rise and fall of her abdomen, his nose and chin pressed against the top of her shoulder where he’s planting kiss after kiss on her feverish skin.

_“Tickles,”_ she says with a small laugh, pushing his face away.

_“Sorry,”_ he answers, proceeding to leave a trail of wet, tickling kisses across her breasts until he reaches her abdomen where he lays his head down, curling against her as she strokes her fingers through his damp hair.

They lay quietly together in their post-coital haze for a while until Norman feels Lucia shift slightly under him and he can sense the change in her mood.

_“What?”_ he asks, rolling his head back off her stomach to look up at her.

She sighs deeply.

_“You’ll tell me I’m just being crazy if I tell you.”_

_“Well, yes, probably but tell me anyway,”_ he says, nudging her thigh with his.

_“I’m scared that people are only coming to my show because of you, that I won’t know if they’re truly interested in my work or just the novelty of seeing something by Norman Reedus’ latest floozy.”_

_“Lucia,”_ he tells her, sitting up so that he can meet her gaze head on, _“you are crazy! Of course people are coming to see your work for what it is and not because of me. This is your show, your passion and it has nothing to do with me. The people that count, your peers, the people that you invited know that I had no hand in this, I haven’t helped you in any way. And if they don’t know that, then I’ll spend the whole damn night telling them or, if it’s better for you, I won’t come at all.”_

_“No! I need you there. You’re the inspiration behind most of the pieces, you’re part of it whether you know it or not and I want you to be there.”_

_“Then you can’t drive yourself crazy with this. Baby, your work is as amazing as you are and it deserves to be seen. If my worthless name brings a little more interest to the table, then so be it, but don’t think for a second that anyone is there for anything other than your talent. You were holding successful shows long before we met and this is no different.”_

She stares at him in silence for a few minutes then lets out another sigh.

_“When did you get to be the sensible one in this relationship?”_ she asks, a smile turning up the corners of her mouth. _“How did that happen? Don’t you have a can of silly string you should be playing with or something?”_

_“Bite me!”_

_“Don’t tempt me. I don’t think I’m quite done with you yet this evening.”_

_“Oh yeah, what did you have in mind Wolf-Lady?”_

_“You think I’m going to tell you and spoil my fun?”_ Lucia scoffs as she moves to push him back on the bed, straddling him and pushing his arms up above his head where she pins his wrists with one hand. _“Now where’s my camera?”_

 


	19. Chapter 19

Lucia wakes in the pre-dawn light, startled out of the nervous sleep she was in by a clap of thunder loud enough to rattle the windows of Norman’s penthouse. With a sigh, she rolls over to look at the clock, groaning when she sees its barely past 6:00am and knowing she’ll never get back to sleep. She’s snuggles a little closer to Norman who’s laying with his back to her, slipping an arm over his waist and burying her face in the sweet smell of his skin, listening as the storm builds outside. Norman stirs in his sleep, mumbling something incoherent and a smile plays over Lucia’s lips as she presses tighter against him, wondering if she should wake him and then thinking better of it. He settles again and she delights in the warmth of his skin against hers, the firmness of his body under her touch sparking a series of erotic images across her memory, shared kisses that lasted for hours, the slow slide of skin on skin, the frantic burn of wanton lust. She wonders if she’s always going to feel this desire for him, to want to be intimate with him in every way and to feel loved by him. Her mind turns over every romantic cliché it can find – she’s found the man of her dreams; he’s her soulmate; they are two halves of a whole – each one making her smile deepen.

Thinking of romantic clichés pulls her mind to Isobel, the author of the book trilogy she designed the cover art for and her oldest and dearest friend. That thought leads to a happy one knowing that Isobel will be attending her art show that evening and they haven’t seen each other in ages and then with a snap her focus is pulled to the show itself and all that it entails. With a whisper of a sigh, she faces the fact that she’s never getting back to sleep and, with one last, longing glance at Norman still peacefully sleeping, she slips from their bed and pulls on her robe, shuffling to the kitchen, where a sleepy Beegle barely raises his head at her. Yawning, she flips on the coffee maker and boots up her laptop on the kitchen counter to check her emails and take one last look at the dozens of to do lists she has scattered on her desktop. By the time the coffee is ready, she already has the start of a headache and is frustrated because it’s too early in the morning for her to follow up on any of the questions she has. Closing the laptop a little more forcefully than she intended, she takes her coffee to the sofa, pulling off the zebra-print, faux fur throw from the back of it and wrapping herself in its warmth.

As she watches the storm railing against the patio windows, the dark clouds hanging malevolently in the sky, she frets as to whether people will be deterred from coming out that night if the weather doesn’t lighten up. She adds it to the growing list of concerns she has for this show, knowing that she’s probably worrying over nothing as Norman keeps pointing out but still unable to stop the doubts that are hanging over her. It’s not like it’s her first show, far from it, she’s worked hard to be where she is today, paid her dues at art festivals for as long as she could remember until she finally made the right contacts, found the right niche for her work, and eventually partnered with a gallery to show her work, first as a part of a group and then, as her work found its market, on her own. As a small gallery they’ve treated her more than fairly over the years, their commission isn’t outrageous and she knows that they genuinely care about her and promoting her work in the right way. But she also knows that this show is different, as much as Norman can insist that he isn’t an influence on how it turns out, she can’t deny that there has an increase in the interest surrounding her work due to him and that both thrills her and frustrates her in equal measures.

Even the guest list for the show reflects a good percentage of people that are there because of him, friends of his that are now friends of hers and contacts that he suggested might be good for her to meet. Combined with the cross section of art columnists, critics, previous and new clients of Lucia’s, it’s all more than a little overwhelming for her especially as, deep down, she knows that this collection is a whole new direction from anything she’s done before. The idea for her urban Monsterskines had rooted itself deep in her brain once they were back in the city and she had played with a few scenarios before her initiation into her new life had taken place but once the beast was loose in her, something possessed her, driving her to complete this collection in record time, working in a variety of mediums as the inspiration flew from her fingertips. Her style has always been unique, each series of work taking on a life of its own but there’s something about these that are different from anything she’s done before and, while she’s completely excited by them herself, she’s not sure how they’re going to come across to everyone else.

She gives herself a mental shake as Norman shuffles in from the bedroom, tousled hair hanging in his barely-open eyes, bunny slippers firmly in place and tugs at her blanket until she relinquishes enough for him to climb under. He snuggles up against her like an overgrown puppy, all arms and legs, dropping a sleepy head against her shoulder and mumbling something into her neck.

_“What?”_ she asks, jiggling her shoulder under his head.

_“I said, ‘why are you up?’”_ he repeats, lifting his head and plucking her coffee mug from her fingers to take a noisy swig.

_“The storm woke me.”_

_“Uh-huh,”_ he says, finishing the last of her coffee and leaning over her to place the empty mug on the end table beside her before settling back against her and closing his eyes. _“Guess I’ll just have to keep you company then.”_

She smiles at his unspoken acknowledgment of the real reason for her restlessness and allows herself to relax against him, drawing from his strength and his faith in her, filling her mind with thoughts of anything else except for her show. With Norman’s reassuring weight pressed comfortably into her side and the rhythmic sound of the rain beating against the windows, Lucia somehow finds herself drifting back to sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The rest of the day rushes past, Lucia spending most of it at the gallery until the owner, a good friend, finally calls Norman and begs him to come take her away for both their sanities sake. Despite her very vocal protestations of everything she still needs to do, Norman whisks her away, taking her first to a nearby restaurant where he literally makes sure that she eats every single thing that’s placed in front of her, telling her they’re not leaving until she does and taking her phone away from her until the meal is over. Once he’s satisfied that she’s not going to keel over from hunger, he escorts her home, running her a hot bath and arguing with her until she gets in it and lets him take care of her, washing her hair and massaging her neck and shoulders until she’s putty in his hands. A sudden barking from Beegle in the other room and the buzz of the doorbell puts paid to his suggestion of helping her feel even more relaxed with a massage of another kind and Lucia feels a momentary ache as he goes to answer the door.

The sound of a female voice reaches her ears and she grins broadly, climbing out of the tub and rushing to wrap a towel around her just as the bathroom door flies open and the woman she considers her best friend in the world barrels in, all jangling bracelets and flowing skirts, and envelopes Lucia in a sweet-smelling hug.

_“Lu-Lu!”_ she shrieks in Lucia’s ear, bouncing her up and down.

_“Izzy, I’m naked here,”_ laughs Lucia, clutching at her towel to keep it from slipping while she returns her friend’s enthusiastic greeting.

_“Pssh,”_ says Isobel, letting her go and stepping back, _“It’s not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before.”_

Lucia blushes, remembering all too well their days of sharing a living space, Isobel’s lack of inhibition and respect for other people’s privacy creating a slew of embarrassing, for Lucia at least, moments that can still make her blush nearly ten years later. They had met during their first year of college, Lucia finding herself one night at a frat party that she had no idea how she ended up being invited too let alone why she had attended, these people were certainly not her crowd. Not really knowing anybody there, she had gravitated towards the kitchen and out onto the back porch where she had accidently stumbled upon a couple, half hidden in the shadows and furiously making out against the porch railing. Her mumbled apologies had died on her lips as she took one look at the girl’s face and realized that she was so wasted that she could barely even stand, let alone know what was happening to her. With a confidence born of doing the right thing, Lucia had challenged the apish-looking frat boy who was trying so desperately to get the girl’s jeans undone and was disgusted to find that he was a hell of a lot more sober than his intended victim.

Ignoring the litany of names and curses he threw at her, Lucia stuck to her guns, heart pounding the whole time in part fear and part righteous indignation, and had managed to wrangle the incoherent mess of a girl away from him and the house. Unable to even get the girl’s name from her, let alone where she lived, Lucia had somehow gotten them back to her own room and sat with her through the night to make sure she was okay. The next morning over insanely strong coffee and lots of dry toast they had become firm friends, finding they shared a lot of common interests, and pretty soon they were inseparable, even finding a place to share the following year and staying together until they both graduated. Lucia’s level-headedness and determination tempered some of Isobel’s wild ways and in turn her sense of freedom and spontaneity loosened Lucia up a little, letting her see that she could have fun in her life and yet still be passionate about her art. With college over, they remained close, still living together until Lucia’s need to be closer to the art scene in New York finally pushed her to make the decision to move into the city. Isobel declined to go with her, stating that her love of the city only extended as far as shopping on 5th Ave and that she was much happier in the suburbs where she could concentrate on her writing without the distractions of city life.

When Isobel’s first novel was published, she came to Lucia for the cover art without hesitation and a new partnership was formed between them, which in turn boosted Lucia’s career also, a fact that Isobel would delight in jokingly throwing in her face every time they got together. Fiercely protective of Lucia, she had been cautiously happy of her relationship with Norman when she had first met him at Christmas, privately questioning Lucia regarding her concerns until she seemed satisfied that this was more than just a fling on his part, that they really were serious about each other and that Lucia had her eyes wide open about the baggage that came with dating someone in the public eye.

_“Your boyfriend tried to lick me on the way in,”_ she whispers conspiratorially and Lucia gives her a hard stare. _“Oh alright, he didn’t but he looked like he was going to!”_

From the other room, her heightened sense of hearing picks up the sound of Norman giving a derisive snort and a muttered, _“I wouldn’t lick her if she paid me,”_ which only Lucia can hear, followed by the jangling of Beegle’s leash and his shouted, _“Taking the dog out,”_ for the benefit of their guest.

_“Iz, why don’t you go open the wine that’s in the fridge while I at least get my underwear on by myself and then you can strap me into the ridiculous dress I bought for this evening.”_

_“On it!”_ replies Isobel, darting from the room at the mention of wine and Lucia quickly ducks back into the bathroom to apply her lotion and slip into her underwear, tightening her robe over the top and reappearing in the bedroom to find Isobel rooting through her closet with a wine glass in one hand.

_“See anything you like?”_ Lucia asks with a laugh, taking a seat on the edge of the bed and watching as her friend rifles through her meagre collection of clothing.

_“How do you live in the shopping capital of the world and yet have such a fashion-challenged wardrobe?”_ comes Isobel’s muffled voice from within the closet.

_“Umm, because I don’t care?”_ replies Lucia with a shrug. _“If it’s comfortable and it fits, I buy it. I don’t need a designer label attached to it that nobody’s going to see.”_

_“You see it, Lu-Lu, have I taught you nothing of my ways?”_ she asks, flopping dramatically on the bed next to Lucia. _“Besides, you have an image to uphold now.”_

_“What image?”_

_“Celebrity girlfriend, Lucia! You can’t live in jeans and t-shirts all the time now, you have a duty to be stunning at all times, even if your boyfriend dresses like an overgrown teenager most of the time and acts like one too.”_

_“Don’t do that, Isobel, don’t judge him like everybody else does.”_

_“Then how should I judge him when I see him acting the fool, behaving like a kid instead of a man his age with a teenage son?”_

_“You should judge him as the man you see before you, as the man you spent time with at Christmas. People are too quick to label him as immature and for what? Enjoying the opportunities life’s given him? He knows how lucky he is, believe me, and he’s grateful every damn day. But he’s also not afraid to really live his life and you of all people should appreciate that. If he wants to act like a kid then he has every right to, that doesn’t mean there’s not a brilliant mind at work behind that exterior and the kindest heart you’ll ever meet. Hell, he’s a chameleon, Izzy, you have no idea. He can adapt himself to whatever his situation requires of him but here, with me, he’s the man I met in the woods last year, the man that won my heart with his soft-spoken ways and his love of art._

_Yes, he’s a dork and a fool but he’s my dork and I know without any question that he loves me and when it counts, when it really, really counts, he’s going to step up and take care of me no matter what and it drives me crazy when people write him off for the light side of his nature, for playing the joker, because he doesn’t say it but I know he reads those comments and they hurt him, how could they not? People like him, in the public eye are so exposed to criticism of all sorts now, because of the internet and tv, way more than they ever used to be and everybody has their own opinion about how he should live his life but you know what? I just want him to be happy, I want him to go crazy and play with water pistols and wear ridiculous masks if that’s what gives him joy. And I just wish everybody else would keep their opinions to themselves and leave him alone.”_

Lucia falls silent, realizing that she’s venting a little and Isobel is staring at her with a look of bewilderment on her face.

_“Geez, Lu, tell me how you really feel about him,”_ she says with a tiny laugh after a minute of silence.

Lucia smiles wryly back at her and reaches for her wine, downing it in one long swallow.

_“I’m sorry, I guess I get a little defensive where he’s concerned.”_

_“No, I’m sorry. I have judged him by what I’ve seen in the media and I know that’s wrong. I guess I need to spend a little more time with him and get to know the guy you’re so obviously smitten with before I pass judgment.”_

_“That’s all I ask, Izzy. Just give him a fair shot, okay. He’s not who you think he is.”_

_“Well he’s certainly changed you, that’s for sure. Have I told you how amazing you look? Your skin is glowing, your hair is shining and your eyes are positively gleaming. If this is from being in love, then sign me up.”_

_“Oh hush! I look the same as I always do.”_

_“Then you must not have looked in a mirror recently, girlfriend, because you look fine! Now, how about you show me this dress for tonight.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Once both women are dressed and made up to their satisfaction, they relinquish the slightly trashed bedroom to Norman so he can get ready, his appreciative whistles ringing in their ears as they pour themselves a second glass of wine and sit down at the kitchen island to wait for him to emerge. Lucia’s nerves are back, her stomach fluttering as the time to leave approaches but the sight of Norman exiting the bedroom, dressed in a sharp black suit with his hair still damp and curling into his neck, still sends shivers down her spine and a warmth to her insides. She moves to help him with his cufflinks, batting away his fumbling fingers as she deftly fastens them for him and he leans in to kiss her then hesitates and pulls back.

_“Don’t want to mess with your make-up,”_ he tells her by way of explanation.

_“Are you kidding me?”_ she asks him, reaching up to slide her fingers into his wet hair and press her lips to his in a deep kiss until Isobel’s fake coughing from behind her forces her to stop with a laugh and wipe her lipstick from his lips with her fingertips while he grins down at her.

The intercom to the front desk buzzes and Norman answers it as Lucia quickly re-applies her lipstick and checks her hair in the mirror one final time, feeling over dressed and even more nervous when he tells her their car has arrived. With a certain amount of trepidation, Lucia follows Norman down to the car and the three of them climb in for the relatively short trip to the gallery where her heart sinks even more to find a large crowd of people waiting outside. When Norman climbs out a raucous cheer runs through the crowd and a barrage of flashes go off as he turns back to offer first Isobel and then Lucia his hand to help them from the car, Lucia praying that she doesn’t stumble in the spiked heels she’s wearing and wishing she hadn’t worn such a tight, short dress. But his hand is steadying under hers and he twines his fingers in hers as she steps away from the car and they walk the few short steps into the gallery, Norman pausing for a second to wave a greeting to the knot of fans who are screaming his name.

Once inside, the coolly lit interior of the gallery with its dark wooden floors and its gleaming fixtures calms Lucia a little, the owner coming over to greet her with a warm smile and an assurance that everything is place and ready to go. At his signal, the doorman lets in the first of the guests who are waiting outside and the place soon begins to fill up with Lucia greeting familiar faces and being introduced to new acquaintances until her jaw begins to ache from smiling and talking about her art. Norman is never far from her in the room, she’s always aware of his presence but he keeps out of her spotlight as much as possible, appearing occasionally with a fresh drink for her or to introduce her to someone he knows. The room is filled with the soft chatter of voices, Lucia trying not to eavesdrop on too many snippets of conversations to gauge peoples thoughts on her work and she’s standing alone for a moment, off to one side, when she sees a familiar face coming through the crowd towards her and then Jake is leaning in to kiss her cheek, a huge bouquet of flowers cradled in his arm.

_“For me?”_ she asks him with a smile, reaching out for the bouquet but he pulls it back out of her reach.

_“That depends. Where’s my date?”_

Lucia scans the room and, as if on cue but more likely because she saw Lucia talking to such a gorgeous male specimen, she catches sight of Isobel making a beeline towards them, bracelets clanking as she nervously tucks her long, blonde hair behind her ear and smiles shyly at Jake.

_“Izzy, I want you to meet Jake Wolfe,”_ Lucia says, pulling Jake forward a step by his elbow. _“Jake, this is Isobel Randall, my oldest, dearest…”_

_“Isobel Randall?”_ asks Jake, interrupting her, his hand already clasping Isobel’s in his. _“The writer? Lucia, you didn’t tell me you had such a famous friend. Or that she would be so stunning.”_

Isobel squeaks a little at his compliment, still keeping a tight grip on his hand, seemingly mesmerized by his face.

_“These are for you,”_ he says, handing her the bouquet and ignoring Lucia’s gasp of indignation as he steers Isobel away from her. _“Don’t tell anyone but I’m a huge fan of your work.”_

Lucia watches them walk away, heads bent together as Isobel laughs at something Jake says and she shakes her head in disbelief until her ears pick up a distinctive giggle and she turns to find Norman watching her from across the room.

_“You told him didn’t you?”_ she says quietly, knowing perfectly well he can hear her and he just gives her the Reedus-shrug, looking the very definition of innocence and mischief all rolled into one and turns back to the person he had been talking to.

Thinking there’ll be a conversation about this later, Lucia steps back out to mingle with her guests once more, working the room for at least another hour before a shiny-faced Isobel appears at her elbow, excusing her from the client she was explaining the intricacies of her work to, and dragging her across to the small bar in the corner.

_“Holy shit, Lu, where did you find him?”_

_“Jake?”_ asks Lucia, signaling the bartender for two glasses of champagne.

_“Yes, Jake! Why have you been keeping him a secret all this time? Why do you hate me?”_

_“I don’t hate you, Izzy,”_ she says with a snort, _“but he’s just Jake. He comes over and raids my fridge and falls asleep on my couch, plays video games with Norman and does this dorky in-your-face dance when he wins. He’s hardly husband material, trust me, not that I don’t love him to pieces.”_

_“Who says I want him for anything serious?”_ giggles Isobel with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows.

_“Izzy!”_

_“What? I’m a grown, successful, sexy-ass woman, I can do whatever I want.”_

_“Okay, no more champagne for you,”_ laughs Lucia as she tries to wrestle the glass away from her friend.

_“Woah, who invited the punk rock goddess who just walked in?”_ Isobel asks, suddenly distracted, her gaze fixed on the door behind Lucia.

Lucia turns to see just as a familiar scent tickles her nostrils and her eyes widen as she’s greeted with the sight of Eris entering the gallery, shaking raindrops from her mane of vibrantly red hair that’s cascading in a mass of ringlets around her face. She’s wearing a pair of artfully ripped jeans and is the only person Lucia knows who could make the enormous, brutal looking biker boots strapped to her feet look feminine. As she shrugs out of her full length leather coat and turns to hand it to the fumbling usher who is gaping open-mouthed at her, she reveals a slinky sequined top which refracts the light in such a way that it appears she’s glowing, the material cut decadently low in the front and completely backless apart from three well placed leather straps holding it in place on her toned torso.

_“It’s Eris,”_ squeals Lucia, dragging Isobel across the room with her.

_“Oh, your friend from your little sabbatical to Virginia,”_ says Isobel, dragging her heels. _“She does know she’s not supposed to upstage you on your special night, right?”_

_“You’re thinking of the bride on her wedding day, you ditz!”_ laughs Lucia, dropping Isobel’s hand to launch herself at Eris, forgetting for a moment that she’s supposed to be the professional in this situation.

_“Don’t wrinkle the couture, sweetie,”_ instructs Eris but she returns Lucia’s exuberant hug with a tight one of her own, keeping hold of her hand when they part and squeezing her fingers.

Lucia squeezes back, a flood of emotions suddenly fighting for pole position inside her as she thinks back to the last time she saw Eris, saying goodbye at the house in Highland. True to her word, Eris had been on the phone practically every day once they had returned to the city and Lucia knew she would have been a complete basketcase without her to talk through the thoughts and fears she couldn’t share with Norman, along with some of the more feminine questions she had. She takes a deep breath, pulling herself back under control, just as Norman and Jake appear beside them and she feels Isobel stiffen next to her as Jake’s attention is taken by Eris.

_“Eris,”_ he says with a sharp nod.

_“Detective Wolfe,”_ she replies, an icy sarcasm dripping off of her tongue as she says his name, like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.

Lucia looks to Norman in confusion, sensing the antipathy her two friends obviously feel towards each other and having no idea why but he gives an almost imperceptible shake of his head and she smothers her curiosity as Jake takes Isobel by the hand and excusing them, walks back across the room with one hand placed protectively at the small of her back.

_“I didn’t know you were coming? Where are you staying? We would have put you up, you know,”_ Lucia tells Eris, squeezing her fingers once more.

_“Well it wouldn’t have been much of a surprise if I’d told you, now would it, chica? Sean’s sorry he couldn’t make it, by the way, but I wasn’t going to miss this for the world. And you have to be kidding, right? No offense but why would I stay at Reedus’ kennel when I can spend the weekend in one of the finest hotels the city has to offer with 24 hour room service and a never-ending supply of eager young bell-hops just itching to be of service to me?”_

_“Aaaand, that’s my cue to leave,”_ says Norman with a laugh and a nod at Eris, _“Discordia.”_

_“Dorkus!”_ she replies, inclining her head in his direction.

He leans in to kiss Lucia’s cheek as he passes.

_“You’re doing amazing, babe,”_ he whispers against her ear then pulls away. _“Greg’s here when you want to say ‘Hi’. He’s loving your stuff, by the way. He’s just wondering if Shari will kill him if he buys more than one.”_

_“Tell him, yes, I’m sure she will. I’ll be there in a minute, babe, to help him decide.”_

Norman disappears into the crowd and Lucia is left alone with Eris.

_“So,”_ Eris says, linking her arm through Lucia’s, _“show me what I can spend Sean’s money on to support my girl.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The sound of heavy rain pelting against the windows wakes Lucia from her sleep once again but this time her state of mind is one of contented bliss and she lets the sound soothe her thoughts. Raising her head to see past Norman’s gently snoring form, she checks the clock and finds that it’s just after 3:00am. As quietly as she can, she slips from their bed and pulls on her robe, tip-toeing out to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of water. She feels excessively hot, more so than normal, and she knows that it’s her wolf metabolism working to burn off the copious amounts of alcohol she drank at the party after her show. So far, it seemed to her, the only real downside to this whole werewolf thing was it was a damn sight harder to get drunk than it used to be but that didn’t mean she couldn’t try. Norman had hired a private room in a nearby bar and, once the show was over, Lucia’s thank you speech to everyone for coming done and a million goodbyes and fake air-kisses later, a small group of their closest acquaintances had headed over to the bar to celebrate her success. _“And it was a success,”_ she thinks to herself, smiling gleefully as she leans against the sink and sips slowly at her water. The majority of her pieces had sold, a way higher percentage than at any other show she’d put on before and she’d received a lot of positive feedback both to her face and via the gallery owner but, maybe most importantly of all, her purse was bursting with contact information for at least a dozen new clients who wanted to work with her.

With the stresses of the show finally behind her, Lucia had been ready to let her hair down and had challenged Eris and Isobel to work their way through the cocktail menu with her, the three of them giggling like teenagers and pulling faces with each new combination. She was pleased to find that Eris and Isobel got on like a house on fire once Isobel realized that Eris wasn’t a rival for Jake’s attention. Eris even surprised Lucia by asking Isobel how her new book was coming and listening intently while Isobel explained that it was going to be much more angsty than the first three. Lowering her voice, she tells them, with a tinge of pride that says she’s done her research, that wolves mate for life and now that her 17 year old wolf boy hero is in love, he’s going to have to deal with the fact that he’s never going to want another woman again and his all-too-human girlfriend is going to have some hard choices to make. Lucia had made eye contact with Eris behind Isobel’s head and the two had worked hard to suppress their laughter at the irony of the situation. When Isobel had informed them that she was seriously considering introducing a vampire character to spice things up a little, they had both pounced on her with a resounding chorus of _“Don’t do it!”_ telling her she didn’t want to go that route, begging her not to until she had thrown up her hands in submission and slid tipsily off her stool to go in search of Jake, claiming his opinion would be the decider.

Eris snorted derisively into her latest cocktail at that comment but, when Lucia had questioned her after Isobel’s departure, she had refused to elaborate on her intense dislike of Jake, something that was still bugging Lucia. She’d let it go and they had matched each other drink for drink instead, the bartender raising a querulous eyebrow at one point but saying nothing after Eris had leaned across the bartop and whispered something in his ear that had made his skin flush a deep violet color that Lucia could see, even in the dim lighting of the bar. Somewhere around her eighth cocktail, she’d finally started to feel the effects of the alcohol and had abandoned Eris to her flirting with the bartender while she went in search of Norman who she found, deep in conversation with Greg about the ins and outs of stripping his bike engine down and re-building it over the summer. Lucia had met Greg and his family over Christmas and it was actually the first time she had been a little starstruck by meeting one of Norman’s friends. Having dabbled a little in stage design and set work while she was in college, she was already familiar with his work and seeing what he did on The Walking Dead just blew her mind. She had practically begged him to let her come work at his studio, telling him she would do it for free if he would just teach her some of his techniques and tonight she had pitched him the same offer again much to his chuckling delight. He had made her a deal, saying that if she came to Georgia with Norman during the summer, he’d let her spend some time shadowing him if that’s what she really wanted to do. Lucia had looked to Norman, barely able to contain her excitement, knowing that they hadn’t even discussed what their arrangements were going to be while he was working over the summer, but he had just shrugged and said it was fine by him but that Greg was a mean boss so not to come running to him when he had her working like a dog 24-7, earning him an arm punch from Greg.

As the party wound down and everybody left among a flurry of heartfelt hugs and congratulations for Lucia, she felt as if she might just burst from all the satisfaction she was feeling inside. Eris had left with promises of a girls-only shopping trip the next day and, when Jake had left with Isobel, Lucia did nothing more than raise an eyebrow and then kiss each of her friends goodnight. Still feeling a nice warm buzz from all the cocktails she’d drunk, she’d climbed into the car home with Norman, wrapping herself around him in the backseat as he’d told her how proud he was of her. By the time they had reached the apartment, she could barely keep her eyes open, so he had scooped her up and carried her to their bedroom, gently undressing her and pulling the comforter over her before she’d passed out.

And now, here she was, barely two hours later and wide awake once more. She finishes her water and sets her empty glass in the sink as a small rumble of thunder sounds outside and a flicker of lightning plays across the windows. Crossing over to the patio doors, she stands, hands pressed against the cool glass and watches as another spark lights the pitch black sky momentarily. Her skin twitches, the dormant beast inside stirring a little at Mother Nature’s display, and she wishes there was a better place close by that they could go to Shift instead of doing it in the confines of their room or on the rare occasions they could get out to the secluded areas of the city. But even that wasn’t a real run, the fear of discovery always tainting their time and Lucia understands now why Norman’s time alone in the woods each year meant so much to him. Feeling suddenly claustrophobic, Lucia quietly slides open the patio door, emitting a small gasp as a gust of icy wind and rain blows against her face, and steps outside into the wild night.  

Sliding the door closed behind her to keep the animals inside and the rain out, she hugs the side of the building, working her way around under the overhang of the roof until she is pressed into the shadowy corner where the building meets the waist-high wall that surrounds the patio. She looks out over the rooftops, the wind blowing splatters of cool rain to sizzle against the heat of her skin as the storm builds around her and she lets the wolf out, just a little, feeling her muscles stretch and relax under her skin, running her tongue over the sharp points in her mouth. Thunder cracks overhead and the wind lashes her short robe against the drenched skin of her thighs, her fingers tightening their grip on the wall in front of her as her body responds to the stimuli and she gasps at the ache slicing suddenly through her core. She jumps slightly as she feels strong hands coming around her from behind, the sound of the thunder having masked the opening of the door, and then relaxes back into Norman’s embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

He doesn’t speak, just nuzzles at her skin above the edge of her robe and she reaches up to cup the back of his neck with one hand, placing her other one over his against her stomach and linking her fingers between his. He pulls the collar of her robe down, sliding it off of her shoulder so that he can graze his teeth against the skin there and she moans, arching back into him, feeling his hardness through his pajama pants and sensing the beast stirring in him too. She closes her eyes as he thrusts a hand inside her robe to capture her breast in the heat of his hand, rolling his palm over it before teasing her nipple with his thumb.

_“Maybe we should go back inside,”_ she tells him as he grinds against her from behind, starting to move but he just tightens his grip on her flesh.

_“We’re fine where we are,”_ he says gruffly against her ear as his teeth move to nip at her neck.

A shiver runs through her which has nothing to do with the cold rain that’s beating against her body and everything to do with the hand Norman is now sliding up her thigh, under her robe and delving against her pussy with, his rough fingers parting her wet lips and caressing her clit. Lucia jerks against his touch, his urgency translating in the quick rough strokes he’s giving her, and reaches behind her to grab at his cock through the soft material of his pants, still dry from where he’s been pressed eagerly against her. He moans appreciatively against her skin and slides his fingers into her, fucking her with them while his other hand still squeezes harshly at her breast. The storm crashes around them, the skyline lit in vivid flashes of almost daylight that causes Lucia to writhe against Norman with the added thrill that they could easily be spotted by anyone in a hundred windows should they look out at just the right moment. She tugs harder at his cock and he growls over her shoulder, slipping his fingers from her to push his pants down far enough to release himself, bending her roughly forward against the wall as he kicks her ankles apart and lifts the short length of her dripping robe at the back just enough for him to rub himself against her ass.

She grinds back into him, silently begging him to enter her, biting her lip as she feels him guide his way in, pushing her hard against the wall until he’s filled her and then pounding deep into her, fast and dirty, while she braces herself against the unforgiving brick that’s biting into her palms. The wind changes abruptly and the last vestige of shelter from the roof is ripped away in an icy deluge of water that cascades over both of them, making Lucia gasp with the pleasure it brings, feeling the heat from Norman’s body as he bangs against her making steam rise on her bare flesh. She starts chanting his name with every thrust, urging him on, telling him to fuck her harder as he bites at her shoulder, his teeth breaking the skin to trickle her hot blood down over her heaving chest and he reaches one hand around to tighten at her throat while the other pushes down to rub almost painfully at her clit. She knows that neither of them can last long at this pace, her legs are shaking under her and she yells at him to make her come, his grunts driving her to a frenzy as he pushes deeper with each thrust while she squeezes her pussy around him.

As another flash of white lights the sky, Lucia feels her body let go, her release rolling over her in a succession of waves that has her trembling from head to toe, Norman’s hands on her body the only things that are keeping her from crumpling to the floor. She feels him stiffen inside her, his body twitching as he explodes into her, throwing his head back and unleashing an unnatural howl that echoes across the surrounding buildings only to be eaten up by another bang of thunder. He slips out of her, his arms tightening into a vice like grip around her torso as he collapses against her, crushing her to the wall beneath them, his mouth covering the wet skin of her neck and shoulders with burning kisses then licking and sucking at the wound left by his own fangs until she’s writhing under him, feeling like she could come again at any second from that alone. He releases her from the wall, lifting his body from hers and spins her around to capture her mouth in a brutal kiss, fangs clashing with hers, the salty taste of her blood ripe on his tongue as he growls low in his throat.

_“Inside. Now,”_ Lucia instructs, pushing him off of her with some difficulty and answering the snarl he gives her with one of her own. _“You probably woke half the neighborhood with that howl, Wolf-Boy, but let’s go see if we can get another one out of you!”_


	20. Chapter 20

February soon steals its way into March and Norman is feeling restless as he always does at this time of year. He can feel summer just around the corner it seems and his mind is already half in work-mode, eager to get back to Georgia and do what he loves. But, before that, there’s still one event looming on the horizon that has him simultaneously excited as hell and nervous as fuck. Mingus is due home in the middle of April and, while they’ve spoken on the phone as much as possible during his time away, he knows there’s the huge hurdle of Lucia living with them to overcome. His son has been pretty laid back about the whole thing over the phone, telling Norman that he’s happy as long as his dad is happy but he’s always quick to change the subject when it comes to their new living arrangements and, without the boy in front of him so he can gauge his reaction, Norman doesn’t know if he’s upset by the change or if it’s just his normal teenage apathy towards everything.

He knows that Lucia is making herself crazy with it too, as much as she tells him she’s fine and they’ll deal with it when they have to, he can see that it’s gnawing away at her. With the build up to her show over and the new work that she’s taken on plus his frequent time away from home at cons and personal appearances, their relationship has been strained to say the least. When they are together, they seem to be fighting over the most trivial of things and Norman’s usually indefatigable laid back attitude is becoming sorely tested. He knows that a lot of it has nothing to do with him, Lucia’s transition to a whole new way of life has gone pretty much like clockwork up to this point but he can sense the growing frustration in her over her need to Shift and just run wild. Large crowds and confined spaces are becoming such an issue for her that she can’t even ride the subway any longer, an incident involving a homeless guy on their way home, late one night, causing her to flash him her teeth and slash at him with her claws when he wouldn’t get out of her personal space. She had freaked out as soon as it had happened, almost hysterical until he could get her home and calm her down, but she was becoming increasingly agitated out in public and he knew that they’d had a lucky escape that night.

More often than not, he would wake in the mornings to find her lying in bed next to him, sleeping in her wolf form and, when he would wake her, she would stare at him balefully with her luminous green eyes before slinking dejectedly off to the bathroom and nudging the door closed to Shift back to her human form. The frustrating part was that he couldn’t even be mad at her, he knew it wasn’t her fault she was feeling that way, he’d been exactly the same after Sean had turned him, that same restless feeling consuming him until he thought he would go mad from it. Over the years he had learned that he could control it rather than letting it control him but it had taken time and practice to suppress the yearning inside down to a manageable level. He was filled with empathy for what she was going through and it was breaking his heart that he couldn’t help her more than he was, it was just unfortunate timing that everything had happened at a time when both of them had commitments that were keeping them from escaping. He knew he had a break coming up, a couple of weeks without any demands on his time and he was planning on surprising Lucia with a trip back to Highland so that she could work out some of her anxieties before Mingus’ arrival. He just needed her to not go completely crazy before then.

To make matters worse, it didn’t help that Lucia had started receiving strange letters in the mail, the first one being delivered to the gallery shortly after her show. What began as a typical fan letter praising her work quickly degenerated into some kind of religious fervor, half of it incomprehensible and the other half suggesting that maybe it would be doing the world a favor if one of her Monsterskines was to come to life and devour her whole. Lucia had laughed it off as just another art circuit crazy who had probably read about her pieces in the newspaper and decided to unleash a little insanity on her but Norman could see that it got under her skin more than she let on. The second letter came addressed to her in care of his name and was hand-delivered to their apartment building. This one launched a personal attack on her relationship with him, calling her everything from a fake and a pretender to a gold-digger and a whore, leading him to think that it was the handiwork of one of his more rabid fans, jealous of their relationship, it wouldn’t be the first time the women in his life had been on the receiving end of some hate mail.

By the time a third and then fourth letter had arrived, each of them more vile than the last, Norman had declared it was time to get Jake involved in what was going on and Lucia had laid the blame squarely at Norman’s feet as it was one of his fans that was making her afraid to step out of the door by herself. Jake unfortunately had little to no luck tracing the sender, each letter was hand-delivered, always at a different time and always when the building’s doorman was away from his desk for some reason. The security cameras revealed nothing better to go on, the person leaving the letter at the front desk was different each time and, from the look of them, they were probably homeless, most likely having been paid to bring them in. Jake took the letters in for testing but, again, found nothing conclusive, no prints on the paper or envelopes other than theirs, nothing distinctive in the handwriting or the paper itself. It was a mystery that was bugging the shit out of him and making Norman increasingly uneasy.

The game changer comes after just over a week of blissful relief, Lucia finally starting to relax a little as each mail delivery brings nothing but the usual bills and personal correspondences. Norman is sprawled on the sofa in Lucia’s studio, half watching her work as he sorts and opens the morning’s mail, balancing his coffee mug on one knee while he separates his mail from hers. When he’s done, Lucia wipes her hands on a paint-streaked rag and comes over to take a quick break and look through her pile while she drinks her coffee. From the corner of his eye, Norman sees her take a large brown envelope from the bottom of the pile and tear at the strip to open it. Engrossed in his own mail, he’s aware of her pulling something from the envelope and he turns his head in her direction just as she drops it to the floor, one hand flying to cover her mouth in disbelief and her eyes widening as they meet his. Disturbed by the look on her face, he reaches down to scoop up what she dropped, turning the paper in his hand to reveal a glossy 8 x 10 photo.

It takes a second for his brain to comprehend what his eyes are showing him, the picture itself is a little blurry, the lighting harsh and distorted but then the image snaps into focus and he feels his blood run cold. Taken on the night of Lucia’s art show, the photo has caught the pair of them lost in the throes of passion on the balcony, Norman’s teeth sunk into Lucia’s flesh, her head bent back, frozen in ecstasy, the inhuman blaze of her eyes and the elongated canines evident in her open mouth all too clear in the stark glare of a lightning flash. Across the dark background of the photo’s surface is a single sentence written in red ink, _‘I know what you are bitch’._

_“Someone was watching us,”_ Lucia says, her voice strained and he can hear the disgust in her tone. _“Norman, they were watching us, they know what we are.”_

He doesn’t answer her, he can’t. What can he say to her that’s going to make this okay? He growls, low and dangerous, throwing the photo down on the coffee table and reaches for the envelope to examine it, his mind in turmoil. The envelope reveals nothing, just like the previous ones and he tosses it on the table in frustration before standing up to pace the small room, all too aware of Lucia’s eyes tracking his movements, wondering if she blames him for this too. After all, his mind reasons, it has to be one of his fans, taking their obsession over the line into actual stalking and he curses at his carelessness in letting his passion overcome him that night and not going inside the house when Lucia suggested it. But how could he have known that somebody would be crazy enough to be outside their apartment all through the night just watching and waiting on the off-chance that they could snap a picture of him through the windows? And now, they had more than they’d ever bargained for, he was sure, pondering over their motives for sending the picture to Lucia. What did they hope to gain from this? How would they use the knowledge they now have and how much did they really see and comprehend?

He spins in his pacing, stepping to the table and picking up the photo again, running his eyes over its surface until he sees something he missed the first time, half cut-off in the bottom corner.

_“Fuck!”_ he spits out, feeling the bile rise in his throat.

_“What?”_

_“They didn’t just get a picture, they got a whole fucking video,”_ he tells her, handing her the photo. _“Bottom right, that’s a counter.”_

Lucia’s face pales even more than normal and he watches as two spots of red flare high on her cheeks.

_“That’s it,”_ he states, suddenly making a decision. _“We’re leaving. I can’t have you here with this shit going on, it’s not safe. What if next time it’s not a video lens they’re pointing at you? Who knows what level of crazy this person is? No, we’re going. Now.”_

_“Where? You have commitments this week and I have my work.”_

_“We’ll head to Virginia. I can rearrange my schedule and you can bring whatever you need, right?”_

She glances around the room and he can see her brain doing a mental tally of the projects she’s currently in the middle of before she slowly nods in his direction.

_“Alright. Then you start packing while I run down to see Mrs. H and then I have to call Flanery, he needs in on this shitstorm.”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Two hours later they’re on the road, Norman having pulled his truck from storage and loaded up their things as fast as possible. His conversation with Sean did not go well and he’s practically grinding his teeth as he fights the traffic to get them out of the city. Lucia sits quietly on her side of the truck’s cab, Beegle pulled half onto her lap so that he can see out of the window, and it seems to Norman that she’s a million miles from him right now instead of mere inches. He hates this, hates that there’s this chasm between them that he has no idea how to fix and he’s once again feeling that everything is his fault, that he brought all this to her life. He curses loudly, slamming on the brakes as someone cuts them off, his nerves jangling as Beegle gives a small whimper from Lucia’s lap and he wants nothing more than to be free of the city, to shake the feeling of being watched that’s been crawling up and down his spine since Lucia opened that envelope.

Finally they clear the city and he feels like he can breathe a little, some of the tension leaving his body as the truck eats up the miles beneath them. Gradually he feels the mood in the cab change, sees Lucia’s posture take on a less rigid pose in his peripheral vision and, after a couple of hours on the road, they start talking, going over the problem of Lucia’s hate mail and the repercussions from the photo from every angle but finding no new solutions to solve who’s behind what’s going on. Exhausted by going around in circles over the same information and just creating more and more unanswered questions, they let the conversation morph into other things until Norman feels some of their rhythm coming back and he feels his spirits lift a little. They stop for a late dinner around 9:00pm, pulling off the highway to let Beegle stretch his legs while they sit on the tailgate and gorge on enormous, juicy burgers and almost a whole bucket of fried chicken, Lucia informing Norman that, if she loses her girlish figure because of this new wolf appetite she’s gained, then he’s going to be in big trouble.

Back on the road with full stomachs and a snoring Beegle curled up on Lucia’s feet, they make the final leg of their trip in a comfortable silence, Norman experiencing an almost euphoric feeling from the knowledge that they’ll soon be free to let loose and shake off their human forms for a while, the anxieties over the situation in New York being pushed away by this new desire. As they cross into Highland County, Norman glances over at Lucia, her face lit by the moonlight coming in through the windshield, and he can see in a second that she’s feeling the same way, so much so that her whole body seems to be vibrating. When he pulls up in front of the familiar stone and wood house, she’s out of the truck before he’s even killed the engine, stretching her arms to the sky and practically dancing on her toes. She turns to him as he climbs out of the driver’s seat, feeling the crack of his spine as it loosens from the sitting position he’s been in for the past seven hours, and he can see the yellow glow of her eyes and the way her chest is rising and falling rapidly with each lungful of fresh, country air she’s inhaling.

_“Come on,”_ she tells him, skipping over to bounce against his torso, almost drunk with her need to Shift.

_“Don’t you want to unpack the truck first, get settled in?”_ he asks, teasing her a little, feeling the changes starting under his own skin. _“I’m kind of tired from all that driving.”_

She doesn’t answer him, just cocks her head at him for a second then backs away from him and he can see the lengthening of her fangs as she smiles wickedly at him, the furred points of her ears poking through her hair and then she’s gone, racing across the lawn towards the woods, tearing off her clothes as she goes. Completely naked except for the fur that’s starting to trail its way down the curve of her spine, she stops at the edge of the woods, turning to give him a look that sends a jolt to his already semi-hard cock and then disappears among the trees, his last sight of her the swish of her dark tail as she takes to all fours and completes her Shift on the run.

_“Fuck!”_ he curses, fighting to get an over-excited Beegle back in the truck and admonishing him to stay put much to the small dog’s obvious displeasure.

Norman takes off in the same direction as Lucia, fumbling with his clothing with suddenly leaden fingers, only stopping to toe off his boots and almost falling headlong into a nearby tree as he tries to remove his jeans without slowing down. Blissfully free of the material that was restricting him, he flies naked through the undergrowth, catching Lucia’s wolf-scent on the air until he’s salivating and he throws himself to the ground, Shifting and taking off again without pause. She leads him on a crazy chase up into the hills, somehow always managing to stay ahead of him but he doesn’t care, he just pushes his body to stretch every muscle and sinew, almost high from the endorphins that are running through his system as he lets the beast have free reign of him. He only catches up to her because he assumes she wants him to, finding her in a familiar-looking clearing and stopping to watch in amusement as she rolls on her back, wriggling from side-to-side in the way that all domestic dogs do when they find a nice, soft patch of sweet-smelling grass. Her legs flail above her torso as she writhes on the ground, small, contented yips issuing from her jaws and Norman approaches her to stand and stare, his laughter translating into a series of chuffing breaths that has her eyeing him from her upside-down position with an accusing look. She growls at him, lips pulling back from her teeth just a little and he accepts the challenge, moving in to snap at one of her flailing paws, trying to capture it in his mouth.

They play for a while, rolling and wrestling on the soft earth, each one trying to get the upper hand until eventually they both flop to the ground, sides heaving and tongues lolling. Lucia wriggles up close to him, rubbing her jaw along the side of his and nudging her head under his where he softly licks her face, taking his time to smooth her fur until she rests her head down on her paws and closes her eyes. With the sound of her breathing in his ears and the weight of her body pressed to his side, Norman rests his head over her neck, thinking that he’ll just let them lay for a little while, let her sleep while he watches over her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The shrill, insistent whistle of a bird jerks him from his slumber, his eyes flashing open as he wonders at first where he is and why he’s sleeping outside, until he lifts his head and he realizes he’s still in his wolf form and memories of the day before come crashing back in. As he focuses his mind, berating himself a little for falling asleep when he should have been on watch, his senses reaching out to check the vicinity for any kind of danger, he feels a movement at his side and turns his muzzle in Lucia’s direction. To his surprise, she’s in human form, her green eyes meeting his as she gives him the sleepy half-awake smile that he loves to see so much in the mornings. She pushes up into a half-sitting position and stretches her arms above her head, Norman’s eyes tracking the way her muscles move under her smooth skin, the way her breasts bob as she lowers her arms back down and another aspect of the beast stirs in him, tendrils of desire curling inside him. As if she can read his mind, she gives him another of those languid smiles, her lips parting slightly to reveal the pink moistness of her tongue between her teeth and she leans back into his side, her fingers sliding in his fur. Her hands stroke over his coat, the paleness of her skin almost translucent in the misty pre-dawn light, the stark comparison of her flesh against the blackness of his fur almost hypnotizing him.

Her hands move up over the lines of his shoulders, her fingers rippling through his ruff, sometimes kneading and tugging as she goes, until her tiny hands are caressing the blunt lines of his face, tracing the lines of his skull beneath the surface. He holds his position, damp nostrils flaring as he drinks in her scent, feeling dizzy under her touch as she leans into him and whispers a single word darkly in his ear.

_“Shift.”_

It’s not an invitation, it’s a command and he doesn’t hesitate, no longer frightened for her to see him as his body morphs from one state of being to another, knowing that it can’t scare her anymore. Her hands never leave his face as he brings forth the Shift, something in the way she’s watching him making him take it slow, letting his bones shrink and re-align, feeling a slight burn of discomfort as his muscles twist back into place.

_“Stop.”_

He does as she asks, even though his transformation back is maybe only two-thirds of the way complete, his lower body still sporting great paws and a tail, his upper torso half-covered in the dark hair of his pelt. She follows the new lines of his face with her fingers once more, the pronounced ridge of his brow, up to the tips of his ears and back across the sharp angles of his cheekbones down to his lips where her thumb ghosts softly across his lower one. She tugs on his goatee as she so often does when she’s teasing him over how sexy the grey streaking his beard is and his lips pull back in a smile, her eyes drawn to the fangs he reveals. Seemingly satisfied with her perusal of his nearly human face, she drops her hands to sit back a little and take stock of his torso, fingers reaching back out to run across the tattoo above his breast and seek out his others, a smile on her face as if she’s delighted to find that they stay on his skin even under his pelt. His body is starting to ache from holding himself in mid-Shift for so long and he’s about to ask her if she’s ready to let him finish when her sharp nails skim down over his abdomen and he drags his gaze from her face to look down in time to see her hand wrap around his rigid cock which is nestled tightly against the dark hair at his groin and stroke his length from bottom to top.

He freezes, the very breath in his lungs coming to a grinding halt as she repeats the motion, his vision narrowing until he feels he’s looking through a dark tunnel with her face the light at the other end. He’s never been touched sexually in this state before, she’s the only woman he’s ever slept with that knew what he was, and his body has just gone into overdrive, every nerve-ending sizzling, the orgasmic feeling that his Shift often brings intensified exponentially until his body is shuddering under her caress. He has no idea how it happens but suddenly he’s on his back and she’s on him, her wet mouth finding his and devouring it with a furious kiss, her tongue scraping on his canines until he can taste her blood in his mouth and he whines hard under his breath. Her claws are scraping at his torso, tearing divots in his flesh in a painful ecstasy, and she’s grinding wildly against him, her pussy slicking the shaft of his throbbing cock as she rubs up and down. With a frustrated growl and a snap of his teeth, he rolls her off of him, pitching her roughly onto her back and following her momentum to cover her body with his own, his mouth trailing bites and sucks across her breasts as he moves to enter her, back paws digging into the soft earth when he thrusts home.

Lucia lets loose a wavering scream as he slams into her, tightening her legs around him, and he raises a hand to cover her mouth as he pulls back and thrusts in again, letting his body finish its incomplete Shift until he’s fucking her hard and fast in his human form. His fingers curl into her mouth and she eagerly wraps her tongue around them, leveraging his weight off of her with his other arm as he pounds into her, watching the way her eyelids flutter as he drives her to one orgasm and then another, her teeth biting hard onto his knuckles in her mouth as she bucks under him. He lets her finish, waiting for her eyes to focus on his once more, reveling in the hot wetness surrounding his cock as he continues to fuck her, pushing a little faster as she squeezes around him, the last tremors of her orgasm pulsing over his length and he lets go, feeling his face contort with the pleasure. He roars, not a whine, not a howl this time but an actual roar, his throat pushing out the sound as he comes, buried deep inside her, his body trembling until he’s spent and then he crumples on top of her, tucking his arms under her and rolling onto his back with her on top of him, crushing her against his chest and trying to stay inside her for as long as possible, wanting this intimacy to never end.

They lay together, entwined on the ground, not speaking as the morning comes to life around them, the woods filling with the sounds of its inhabitants waking up, Norman thinking that he’d be quite content to stay here forever with her on top of him. Beneath his hands, Lucia’s shoulders start to shake a little and he loosens his grip in concern only to be startled by the loud snort of laughter that suddenly erupts from her mouth and doesn’t stop. Confused for a second, he just holds her as she giggles against him and then the pure sound of her peals of laughter bring a smile to his own face and even though he’s still not sure why, he finds himself laughing along with her, the two of them clutching at each other until they’re breathless. Finally, Lucia brings herself under control, crossing her arms over his chest and making a fist with her hand so that she can rest her chin on it, from where she stares him squarely in the eye for a good long minute before speaking.

_“I’m sorry,”_ she says with such sincerity that his heart gives a little twinge of pain at her words.

_“Sorry for what?”_ he asks softly, stroking his fingers down her spine.

_“Oh for being such a crazy bitch the past few weeks, for blaming you for the crazy stalker, for being a pain in the ass to live with. Take your pick.”_

_“Well, you are a pain in the ass,”_ he agrees with a nod, _“but I already knew that before you moved in so…”_

_“Don’t,”_ she says, nudging his chest with her forearms. _“I’m being serious here. I shouldn’t have been taking it out on you, of all people. I’ve just been so… so…”_

_“Frustrated? I know, baby, fucking believe me I know. But it gets easier, you have to trust me on that. This is all still so new to you, your body is letting the wolf-side be more dominant even if you think you’re in control and all it wants to do is run wild in the woods but you’ll learn to push that urge down to a level you can manage, I swear.”_

_“I’m just scared,”_ she tells him in a small voice.

_“Of what? The stalker? I’m not going to let them anywhere near you, Lucia, you know that. We’ll figure this out, I promise you.”_

_“No, that doesn’t scare me…well, it makes me anxious, I guess but I’m scared of Mingus coming home. Without even dealing with the whole issue of how he’s going to react to us, I’m scared of not being able to control myself when he’s in the house. What if I slip up or can’t stop the urge to Shift and he finds out? I’d never forgive myself if that happened, never.”_

_“Oh, my sweet baby, is that why you’ve been Shifting all the time.”_

She nods pitifully, eyes swimming with unshed tears and he wraps her even tighter in his arms.

_“It’s going to be fine, Lucia. You’re going to be fine. I know it with absolute certainty.”_

_“How can you know?”_

_“Because I know you and you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. Look how much you’ve been through since we met, how you’ve adapted to everything this fucked up situation has thrown your way. You haven’t given up, not once, even when you wanted to and you were begging me to not make you Shift again, you still did it. You found the strength and you made the choice and you got through it, just like you’ll get through this. Look at me, is this the face of a worried man?”_

She stares at him for a few seconds, eyes glistening in the morning sun and then draws in a deep breath and lets it go in a shuddering sigh, blinking away the tears rimming her eyelids.

_“Okay?”_ he asks and is rewarded with the glimmer of a smile. _“Good. Now get off me, you’re crushing me!”_

With a gruff laugh he tips her off of him, letting her roll onto the soft grass where she lays smiling, her fingers finding his to twine around them.

_“Oh shit,”_ she says suddenly, squeezing hard on his fingers and rolling to her knees, _“you left Beegle in the truck all night, didn’t you?”_

_“Crap,”_ replies Norman with a groan. _“He better not have peed on my damn upholstery.”_

 In the blink of an eye, they’ve both Shifted and bolted back the way they came the previous night, scattering wildlife from their path as they barrel through the woods at a breakneck pace until they reach the treeline surrounding the house where they both Shift back, retrieving almost all of their scattered clothing, thankful the nearest neighbors are at least four miles away. Lucia opens the door on an incredibly disgruntled Beegle who refuses to acknowledge either of his pack members as he dashes to the nearest tree to relieve himself. Norman breathes a sigh of relief to find that his seats are still dry and then the pair of them load their arms with their hastily-packed belongings and move back into their home away from home.

 


	21. Chapter 21

The night is unseasonably warm for Virginia in March and, as much as being in her wolf form makes her happy, Lucia is feeling the heat as she trots through the woods, following Norman’s hindquarters as he leads her through a part of the area he hasn’t taken her before. She’s feeling relaxed and buoyant, the troubles of the city seeming like something from a bad dream, the days they’ve spent at the house in Monterey reminding her of their time at her cabin last year. They quickly fell into a routine of sleeping late, spending their days together while she worked or they went out to explore the area, making slow, lazy love in the afternoons then dozing until the hour was late enough for them to shed their human skins and take to the woods and hunt. A few times they took Beegle out with them at night, watching over him as they headed into the woods, chasing and playing with him as a part of their pack until he was worn out and Norman would have to Shift back to carry him home. It’s been a blissful time, rejuvenating the pair of them and Lucia feels ready to take on the world, practically dancing on her paws as she treks through the dark trees.

Up ahead and slightly to their left, Lucia’s ears have been hearing the steady rush of water slowly increase in volume with their progress and now her mouth tightens at the thought of a cool drink. She’s about to move up alongside Norman and nudge him in that direction when he veers off of the path they’ve been following and into the trees towards the sound. Lucia hurries after him, feeling like her tongue is practically dragging on the ground as she bumps against him repeatedly, urging him to hurry. When she tries to pass him, he turns back to give her a low, warning growl, lips pulling back from his teeth a little and she huffs out an indignant breath but stays behind him until finally the dense foliage starts to thin out a little and she can see the cold light of the moon shining brightly up ahead. They emerge into a large break in the trees and Lucia stops dead, knowing now why Norman didn’t want her racing ahead. The view in front of her is breathtaking, the milky-white moonlight bathing the surface of a wide stream which cuts through the trees above them, her paws on the edge of a rocky outcrop, the water passing within inches to cascade down into an overflowing pool below.

Lucia watches the path of the bubbling water, mesmerized by the glints of moonlight being reflected on its surface, her thirst momentarily forgotten until Norman gently rubs against her shoulder and turns to pick his way carefully down to the pool below. Lucia follows after him, treading carefully on the wet rock, feeling the spray from the waterfall dampening her fur as they approach the bottom where the water is lapping gently to the edge of the natural pool. Norman drops his head to drink noisily from the fresh, clear water making her smile inwardly as she joins him, thinking how it’s impossible for him to drink in either body without that slurping sound that’s both adorable and crazy-making all at the same time. When she’s had her fill of the cool water, she sits back on her haunches, licking the drops from her muzzle and gazing at the pool in front of her, wondering how deep it is and if people come there to swim in the summer, contemplating trekking back during the day with her sketchpad and camera. She turns her head to ask Norman if they can do that before they leave, forgetting as always that she has no way to form the words and finds him initiating the Shift, his body rippling upwards from all fours as he opens his arms out to the side in a languid stretch. Curious, she follows suit, straightening up as she takes human form, toes digging into the damp rock beneath her, giving a tiny, involuntary moan of pleasure at the final snap.

_“Hey,”_ says Norman, moving to take her in his arms, his warmth mingling with hers, _“so what do you think?”_

_“It’s beautiful. I was thinking maybe we could come back during the day too.”_

_“Yeah, I had a feeling you’d want to do that. It’s kind of a hike though, you know, when you only have the two legs.”_

_“Well, if you don’t think you’re up to it, Old Man…”_ Lucia grins and is rewarded with his fingers tickling her ribs making her squirm in his grasp.

_“Come on, you have to admit I did good though, right? It’s a great spot,”_ he ceases his tickling much to Lucia’s relief and wraps his arms tight around her again, dipping his head to kiss softly at her collarbone. _“It’s pretty romantic up here.”_

_“It is romantic, I’ll give you that,”_ she agrees, shuddering a little as his lips find their way to the base of her throat, his goatee roughly caressing her skin, _“but I have to confess, I do feel a little like I’ve fallen into one of Izzy’s bad supernatural romances.”_

_“Why’s that?”_ he asks, a puzzled smile on his face as he breaks off his delicate assault on her skin.

_“Really? The wolfen lovers under a moonlit sky on the edge of a sparkling waterfall, naked and aroused. It screams corny teen romance.”_

_“Are you questioning my seduction techniques?”_ he asks defensively but Lucia can see the glint of laughter in his eyes. _“Wait… you’re aroused?”_

_“Always around you, my love,”_ Lucia says with a laugh, grinding her hips into the hardness of his erection between them, causing a small grunt to trip from his lips.

_“You know what we should do?”_ he asks suddenly, eyes widening excitedly with the thought he’s just had.

_“What?”_ she replies, rubbing against him a little more, feeling her own ache start to grow at the feel of him against her flesh.

_“We should totally take a swim. Right now!”_

Lucia stills her movement, looking up at him before bursting into laughter.

_“Are you fucking insane? You are aware that it’s March, right? It was snowing just two days ago! Do you want us to die from hypothermia?”_

_“Okay there, grandma, calm down,”_ Norman laughs, his body shaking under her hands. _“I forgot how weak your constitution is. Maybe I should take you home and make you some nice hot cocoa instead?”_

_“Ha Ha. And don’t think that lame attempt at reverse psychology is going to work on me, Wolf-Boy, I’m wise to your games now.”_

_“Oh you think so, huh?”_

_“I know so,”_ she says, poking a fingertip into the hard muscle of his chest.

_“Yeah? Well I think I might still have a few moves to surprise you with,”_ he retorts and before she can even take a breath to reply, he’s scooped her up into his arms, taken three long strides into the water and deposited her unceremoniously in the center of the pool.

While the water isn’t anywhere near as cold as she imagined it would be, the initial shock of it meeting her skin has Lucia giving a small shriek, barely having time to suck in a breath before the water closes over her head and she plunges into the dark depths. She sinks a few feet, expecting to hit bottom and flailing a little when she doesn’t, using her arms to stop her downward momentum and giving a powerful kick to propel herself back up to the surface where she’s greeted by Norman’s lupine grin as he stands shin deep in the water, hands on hips. She kicks forward through the water towards him, realizing that he’s standing on a natural shelf leading down from the shoreline and then dropping off into the part of the pool she’s in.

_“How’s the water, Old Lady?”_ he snorts, reaching down to haul her up into the shallows beside him where she reaches up to wring the water from her hair.

_“Why don’t you find out?”_ she yells, whirling to shove him hard in the midsection, watching in satisfaction as his arms pinwheel in the air for a second before gravity takes hold and he disappears beneath the cold surface.

He reappears further out toward the center of the pool, water streaming from his hair, yellow eyes blazing at her and he curls his lips back to bare his fangs at her either in a challenge or a dare, she’s not sure which but she doesn’t hesitate to dive back into the water. Surfacing next to him, she flicks water into his face as he takes her hand and draws her to him, his grin still in place, slipping an arm around her waist, both of them kicking slowly as they bob in place.

_“Invigorating, isn’t it?”_ he smirks at her, turning them slowly in place.

Lucia’s never going to admit it to him in a million years but it actually is kind of nice, now that the first slap of cold had passed and the cool slide of the water is caressing her feverish skin. She hasn’t been swimming in as long as she can remember and, although the pool is not that wide, she pushes off from Norman and pivots in the water, taking a few short strokes before turning and flipping onto her back to float on the surface, the cool night air brushing her exposed skin with its fingertips. She lets the water take her weight, stretching her arms out to the sides and staring up at the moon where it’s peeking at her above the treetops, starting to feel like she really has fallen into a strange world created by somebody else where her lover is a wolf adored by thousands of women who would probably run screaming in terror if they knew what he truly was and she spends her nights naked in the forest, bathing in water that would put a normal person in the hospital. She giggles softly, turning her head to share her thoughts, surprised to find she’s alone in the pool, the rush of the waterfall the only sound her ears pick up when she casts out her enhanced hearing, lowering her body back into an upright position. Heart beating just a little faster, she scans the surrounding rocks and tree-line but sees nothing out of the ordinary so she puts her body in motion, cleaving through the water with a strong stroke to the edge. She just has her hands up to lever herself out onto the rocky shelf when the water erupts beside her and Norman surfaces, grabbing her around the waist and pulling her back to dunk her under the water again.

She wriggles out of his grasp, her foot connecting with his thigh as she launches herself away from him, staying submerged until she realizes she’s heading into the churning mass of water at the base of the falls and she comes up to find herself at the back edge of the pool. Wiping her eyes as she’s bounced by the choppy water swirling around her, she sees Norman dive below the surface and then feels him seconds later, running his hands up the length of her body as he emerges beside her, flicking his dripping bangs out of his eyes and pressing close to her again.

_“Now you’re going to tell me you’re part Merman, right?”_ she asks with a smile, clinging to his neck as he steadies them against the rocks.

_“Not quite,”_ he answers with a throaty laugh, _“but I do love to be in the water, always have done.”_

The turbulence of the water moves their bodies against each other, reminding Lucia of the heat she was feeling between her thighs before he decided on this impromptu water adventure and she reaches down with her free hand, meeting his eyes as she grabs at his cock and gives it a light tug or two. His head tips back a little, mouth opening, tongue pushing against his teeth as she strokes at him again, fingers gripping him a little tighter than normal until he’s groaning softly under his breath.

_“Glad to see the cold hasn’t affected your libido,”_ she tells him, twisting her palm over his tip and feeling him twitch in response.

_“Babe, nothing can keep me down when you’re around,”_ he replies, echoing her sentiment from earlier with a mischievous smile.

Lucia pulls off another stroke of his stiff cock, raising herself up against him using the arm she has hooked around his neck, to bring her mouth to his in a deep kiss, nibbling on his lower lip with her teeth before pulling her head back.

_“I’m getting a little chilly,”_ she tells him with a small pout.

_“Aww, you want to get out, baby?”_

_“No but I think I need you to warm me up.”_

_“Oh, I think I can take care of that, no problem.”_

Working in tandem, bodies turning over each other’s in the deep water, he guides them from the base of the waterfall and back to the calmer edge of the pool, his muscles flexing delightfully under her palms as he boosts her up to sit on the rock ledge, moving between her thighs. He places his palms either side of her, pushing up until he’s level enough to capture her lips in a wet kiss, her fingers weaving gently into his hair, before he lowers himself back down, tracking his hot mouth over her collarbone to her breasts. A combination of the night air and her own arousal has stiffened Lucia’s nipples to almost painful proportions and the first scrape of his teeth against them has her tightening her fingers in his hair and whispering his name with a curse. He teases her hard, pulling and sucking each sensitive nub until she’s gasping hard, her chest heaving against his mouth and she feels like she’s starting to lose her grasp on reality a little. Taking his weight on one arm beside her, she feels him move in the water, his other hand sliding silkily up her thigh to probe at her aching pussy, his fingers pushing easily into her heat to open her up a little and let the cool water enter her, sending a tremble down her thighs. He plays with her, bringing her to the brink and then cutting her off and Lucia growls in frustration, her pussy aching and her breasts throbbing as he continues making a meal of them until she can’t stand it anymore.

_“Norman, please,”_ she whispers, bringing her face down kiss at the top of his head.

He pulls his fingers from her and she can feel her pussy twitching at the loss, feeling just as bereft when he raises his mouth from the skin of her breast and grins wickedly up at her.

_“Don’t tell me you’re warm enough already?”_ he admonishes her. _“I’ve barely even started.”_

_“Baby… no more teasing… please… just…”_

_“Just what?”_ he asks, his voice raising goosebumps across her flesh.

_“Just fuck me… now…”_

She doesn’t beg, she doesn’t demand, she just lets him know what she wants and she isn’t disappointed when he boosts himself out of the pool, the water streaming from the taut lines of his body, the sight of his cock making her ache even more, and pulls her up to him. Lucia feels the water trickling from her skin as she kneels in the shallows to press against the firmness of his skin, his hands skimming her body as he kisses her tenderly before turning her away from him. Running his hands down her back and then up again, he bends her forward until she’s on all fours, the water lapping over her thighs and forearms as she spreads herself for him, a breath of cool air ghosting over her heated pussy. She feels his hands, firm against her ass, rubbing and kneading at her flesh making her whine and arch her spine down, pushing back into his touch with a small wiggle which has him huffing out a laugh behind her. Unexpectedly he slaps her cheek, the wet of both their skin making a resounding smacking sound that Lucia echoes with a gasp of pleasure.

_“Oh you like that, do you, my dirty girl?”_ he asks with another stinging slap of skin on skin that makes Lucia want to howl with pleasure. _“Well, how about this?”_

She feels him take her flesh in a tight grip, his fingers digging in as he parts her cheeks and plunges his tongue into her throbbing pussy, licking and sucking while she bucks under him. She rides his tongue, letting him devour her, the feel of him buried in her making her dig her nails into the submerged rock beneath her, feeling her claws sharpen on her fingertips as she rolls into an orgasmic release, her body heightening every sensation as he holds her tight, tongue caressing her until she’s done. She can feel the heat rolling from her body again, the water barely soothing her as she catches her breath and shakes her head to clear her jumbled vision, feeling Norman rising over her back, one hand rubbing hard up her spine as he positions himself behind her and pushes into her, filling her until his torso is flush with hers. He holds for a second or two letting her squeeze tight around him, reaching under her to tease at her nipples which are dipping into the water beneath her, and then his hips roll and he slams into her. Lucia feels her knees scraping against the rough rock below but she doesn’t care, just braces harder as he pounds into her, his flesh hot against her back, his breath coarse in her ear as he nips at her shoulder with his teeth, biting and licking his way down her spine until he’s upright behind her again.

The water splashes wildly around them with his frantic movements as he pushes into her over and over, uttering her name to let her know he’s close and she urges him to come, meeting each of his thrusts with a deep moan. She can smell his scent change in the air and knows that he’s loosened the beast a little, her mouth salivating at the smell as her body responds in kind and she pulls forth the Shift just the barest bit to give the beast a little breathing room. Norman’s hand tightens into her hair, tugging slightly, his other hand connecting harshly with the skin of her ass again and again, treading that thin line between pleasure and pain that has her yelping with each stroke until he gives a strangled sound between a growl and a bark and shoots his load into her. The feel of his cock jerking inside of her and sounds of him coming push Lucia to another orgasm, this one turning her limbs to jelly, her arms loosening under her to almost pitch her face first in the water if Norman’s fast reflexes hadn’t caused him to wrap his arms tight about her torso and hold her while she shuddered against him.  When she’s sure she can support herself again, she nudges him gently and he lets her go, moving back to give her room while she straightens up, wobbling a little in the water.

He gets to his feet, reaching down a hand to help her to hers and pulling her into his embrace where she nuzzles into his neck, kissing the damp skin and tasting him with her tongue.

_“Fuck, baby, I’m thinking I should quit my job and we should retire to the country as soon as possible,”_ he tells her, laying kisses against her wet hair.

Lucia giggles against his skin feeling a shiver run through his body at her breath on him and wraps her arms around his waist.

_“Not gonna happen, Mr. Dixon, unless you want a fangirl riot on your hands,”_ she replies with a light tickle of her fingers against his ribs when he gives an over-exaggerated sigh.

_“Well, I’m at least making sure the house in Georgia this year has a pool.”_

_“What so I can look like a wrinkled prune even more of the time,”_ she states, waggling her water-logged fingertips under his nose.

_“Sexiest prune I ever saw,”_ he whispers, catching her fingers and kissing each one, spreading a new heat through Lucia’s body.

_“Okay, enough of that before you get carried away again and we’re out here when the sun comes up,”_ she informs him, giving him a small shove away from her. _“Besides, you smell like wet dog!”_

_“Baby,”_ he tells her with a wide grin, _“so do you!”_

_“You’re kidding, right?”_ Lucia asks, frantically trying to smell her own skin but being blocked by the overpowering scent of Norman that’s marking her body.

_“Is it wrong that it turns me on?”_ he asks, reaching out to draw her close and she’s not surprised to find that he’s already semi-hard again where he’s pressed against her.

_“Eww, yes,”_ she says, shimmying out of his grip and stepping carefully out of the shallow water. _“Come on, I really want to get home and bathe myself in as much body wash as I can.”_

He laughs at her, following her out of the water as she initiates her Shift.

_“Follow the water all the way down,”_ he tells her once she’s done. _“It’ll bring you out by the Old Mill and then we can take the back road to the house.”_

She whines to show she understands and then waits while he changes his own form, watching in fascination at the pull and turn of his skin and muscles, before picking her way alongside the water, soon finding a worn animal trail that mirrors the bank of the stream. With Norman snapping at her heels she soon picks up speed, enjoying the endorphins their love-making and her Shift has released into her system, until she feels that her paws are barely touching the earth as she flies between the trees. The stream gradually widens out becoming faster and deeper the further down it goes until Lucia can hear a dull roaring sound up ahead that signals their approach to the Great Falls just outside of town. She slows as the old bridge spanning the 80ft drop of the falls comes into sight, her ears flattening back against her skull as the Old Mill looms into view at the bottom. The building creeps Lucia out in the daylight, let alone in the silvery moonlight that’s now shining off of its white-painted roof, making the broken windows set in its walls look like pools of midnight.

Norman had brought her here one afternoon, knowing her taste for the unusual and slightly macabre and thinking that it would be something she might like to incorporate into one of her sketches but something about the building had prickled every nerve-ending under skin. The Great Falls themselves were breathtaking, the original iron bridge spanning the gorge below a masterpiece of industrial engineering but the Old Mill itself, nestled snugly up against the rock sat like a malevolent blot on the landscape, at least in Lucia’s mind. Norman, sensing her mood that day, had suddenly thought of another place she needed to visit and had whisked her away, saving her from having to put a voice to the irrational feeling the abandoned building was invoking in her. Now, he’s a comforting presence at her side, nudging her forward across the bridge and trotting beside her to block her view of the mill but not stopping the feeling of dread that was telling her wolf-brain to flee as fast as it could away from this place. With a shake of her fur when her feet touch the path on the other side of the gorge, Lucia takes off again, feeling better as she puts some distance between them and the wretched hulk of a building behind them, the sound of the falls fading as they traverse the last few miles back to their home.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The weather for the next two days lapses back into winter mode, the warmth of their night in the woods seeming like one of Mother Nature’s cruel jokes as they stay holed up in the house, watching the occasional snow flurries rail against the windows. Lucia doesn’t care, she has plenty of work to keep her busy and throws herself into finishing the only physical piece she brought with her to work on, all her other commissions being of the digital variety. Norman busies himself by alternately reading through the pile of possible scripts he brought with him, chasing Beegle around the house like a madman or laying on the sofa to stare at her while she works until she either gives in to the looks he gives her or shoos him from the room to let her work in peace. By lunchtime on their second Saturday in the house, Lucia steps back from her easel with a satisfied smile, happy to have another work under her belt and pleased with the way it turned out despite all the upheaval surrounding its completion. She bounces into the kitchen to find Norman at the sink, peeling potatoes for dinner later, and reaches around to slip her hands up under his t-shirt, scratching playfully at his nipples, making him drop the potato he’s holding into the bowl with a splash that sprays his front.

_“What the fuck, Lucia?”_ he grumbles, grabbing a towel to wipe his hands on and turning to face her, her body releasing his for a second and then slamming back into him as soon as he’s all the way around.

She’s practically climbing him in her need to be kissing him, her hands pulling harshly at his shirt until she can hear the tearing of threads and he’s batting her away to hold her at arm’s length.

_“Please tell me you did not just split this shirt, woman?”_ he grunts, letting her go to inspect the fabric as best he can. _“What the hell has gotten into you?”_

_“I finished my piece,”_ she tells him, bouncing up onto her toes and clapping her hands together in delight.

_“Oh baby, well why didn’t you say so?”_ he replies, a smile splitting his face as he reaches down and pulls his shirt off over his head, making Lucia bounce even more.

She lays her hands on his chest, paint-crusted fingers running swirls across his skin as she dips her head to tease his nipples with her teeth, eliciting a throaty laugh from above her, his hand coming up to cup the back of her head. He guides her mouth up to his, opening to take her tongue against his own and she lowers her hands, first to his sides to trace the lines of his ribs and then to the front of his low-slung jeans, skimming over his hipbones before she pops the button and starts to lower his zipper.

_“Wait,”_ he says, jerking his head back from their kiss and grabbing her hands, leaving her a little breathless as she looks at him in confusion.

_“Norman?”_ she asks but he doesn’t answer, instead bending suddenly to throw her over his shoulder and carry her giggling, shrieking form caveman-style out of the kitchen and into the small utility room off to one side.

_“What are you doing?”_ she laughs as he deposits her on top of the washing machine.

_“Spin cycle, baby,”_ he tells her with a dirty laugh, reaching behind her to crank the dial around and kick the machine into life beneath her.

_“Ohh,”_ Lucia replies, the machine revving under her ass ramping up her arousal as much as the man in her life reaching under her skirt to tug off her panties.

He lifts one of her legs, his fingers curling behind her knee as he kisses his way up the inside of her thigh, pushing aside her skirt as his lips move higher before he hooks her leg over his shoulder, leaning her back on the vibrating machine as he tears at the buttons on her shirt. With her blouse open, he pulls aside her bra, exposing her nipples to his mouth where he greedily sucks and licks at them, coaxing them to hardness, rocking his hips into her at the same time. Lucia’s body is screaming from the sudden overload, her arousal that always comes with the completion of her work, magnified by the extra stimulation Norman is putting on her with his hands and mouth until she’s pulling furiously on his hair and asking him to fuck her hard. He leans back a little from her, finishing the job she started on unzipping his jeans and pushes them down along with his underwear, Lucia licking her lips at the sight of his cock springing loose. She pulls him back to her, initiating a ravenous kiss while he slides a hand between them to work against the wet heat of her pussy, thrusting two fingers into her as she bites at his lips, whimpering in the back of her throat.

They are lost in each other, the rhythmic rumbling of the washer providing background noise for their mutual pants and groans which are bouncing off the walls in the small, tiled room. Without warning, both of them flinch and pull breathlessly apart at the sound of car doors slamming outside the house, neither of them having heard the vehicle approach.

_“What the…”_ exclaims Norman, struggling to pull his jeans back up over his erection.

_“Who is it?”_ hisses Lucia, frantically trying to button her blouse after tugging her bra cups back in place.

_“Who do you think?”_ Norman replies with a roll of his eyes just as they hear the front door banging open and Sean’s booming voice echoing around the hallway.

_“Reedenstein! Where the fuck are you, brother?”_

Neither of them has the chance to move before Sean appears in the doorway, closely followed by Eris who takes one look at their disheveled appearance and hides her mouth behind her hand while she stifles her giggles.

_“We were just doing the uh… laundry,”_ Lucia blurts out, blushing furiously at how lame her words sound to her own ears, knowing that she’s fooling no one, what with the scent of their sex hanging heavy in the air.

_“Sweetheart, you forgot the clothes,”_ Sean whispers in her ear as he moves in to give her a hug and a kiss on the cheek, making the heat flooding her face deepen even more.

_“I… I… we..”_ she stammers avoiding looking at his face.

_“Reedus, you dog,”_ he yells, stepping over to clap Norman hard on the back, grabbing him in a headlock much to Norman’s annoyance.

_“Prick!”_ mumbles Norman from somewhere under Sean’s armpit.

_Okay, boys, that’s enough,”_ says Eris, stepping into the crowded space and jabbing Sean in the ribs until he releases Norman who retaliates by trying to smack the back of Sean’s head only to be blocked by Eris’ hand before he makes contact. _“Why don’t you go put some of that testosterone to good use and bring our bags in while Lucia and I dish up the food we brought before it gets cold?”_

_“Yes, wifey,”_ says Sean contritely, stroking a hand along her arm as he passes her on his way to the kitchen, Norman following him after throwing a plaintive look in Lucia’s direction and she feels the now uncomfortable ache in her pussy throb a little as she watches him go.

_“Now”_ smirks Eris, reaching past Lucia to turn off the empty washer, _“do you need to take a cold shower or do you think you can help me with lunch?”_

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The four of them devour the mountains of take-out that Sean and Eris stopped to pick up along the way, picking over the problem of Lucia’s stalker while they eat, the conversation circling again as nobody has any solid solutions on how to proceed with the situation. After lunch, they move to the living room, still debating back and forth throughout the afternoon until Lucia can see the growing frustration evident on Sean’s face as he paces back and forth, asking and re-asking the same questions to which they still have no answer. Finally, with a deep growl, he invites Norman outside for a sparring session, stating that he thinks better when his body is in motion. Norman agrees, obviously feeling equally frustrated and the pair of them change into sweats before heading out into the frosty air. Lucia and Eris decline their invitation to join them but they do move over to the padded seat in the bay window that overlooks the back lawn so they can watch as Sean and Norman stretch to warm up before engaging in some basic fighting techniques to loosen them up. The women watch as the shirts come off and their men get down to business, the almost casual way their bodies are moving hypnotizing Lucia, her artist’s eye taking in every ripple and curve of their skin as they trade blows, the ache inside her that was never satisfied rearing its head again as she watches the sinewed shape of Norman’s back twist and turn to stay out of Sean’s reach.

_“Do you want me to leave you alone?”_ Eris asks from beside her with a grin, causing the heat to flare on Lucia’s cheeks again. _“Give you some time to, ahem, wash your clothes?”_

_“Funny,”_ replies Lucia sarcastically, sticking her tongue out in Eris’ direction and pulling her eyes away from the window.

_“You know I’m just messing with you. I’m right there with you, sister, believe me. It’s certainly a thing of beauty watching those two move,”_ she sighs, her eyes still locked on the masculine display outside, _“although, if you tell them I said that, I will deny it with my last breath.”_

Lucia gives a small laugh, turning her body from the window so that she can give Eris her full attention without being distracted.

_“Can I tell you something?”_ she asks quietly, the tip of her thumb worrying at her bottom lip.

_“Of course, sweetie, you know you can tell me anything. Well unless it’s about you and Reedus having sex, I don’t think I’d ever be ready for that conversation.”_

_“Eris!”_

_“Sorry. Listening.”_

_“I’m petrified of Mingus coming home,”_ Lucia says in a rush before she can feel too self-conscious to admit it out loud.

_“What on earth for? He’s a good kid, I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”_

_“But he’s a teenage boy, Eris, I have no idea what to do with one of those!”_ she says with a hint of desperation in her voice.

_“You just do the same as you do with the one you’ve already got, well, minus the sex of course. You feed him huge amounts of food, preferably of the junk variety, you let him play video games until the sun comes up and then let him sleep all weekend. It’s really not that hard.”_

_“Very funny,”_ smiles Lucia, giving Eris a light shove on the arm. _“But what I if I let something slip, you know, get too comfortable and mention something I shouldn’t or worse, what if he sees something he shouldn’t in me, my eyes or my teeth, something that I’m not always aware of?”_

_“The great big hairy tail you’re so often walking around with! Lucia, sweetie, come off it. You have to stop beating yourself up over something that’s never going to happen.”_

_“How can you be so sure? Norman’s kept it from him all these years, hell he still hasn’t decided if he’ll ever tell him. I’d be devastated if I was the one to make that revelation.”_

_“You won’t,”_ Eris tells her, taking Lucia’s hand comfortingly in hers, _“because you and that boy are his world. You’re going to take one look at that kid and instinctively do anything and everything you can to protect him, if it’s from the world or from you. Norman’s been having this debate for years and maybe one day you can help him make the choice to tell Mingus or not. That was probably one of the main reasons he agreed to let Sean turn him in the first place, the offer coming so close after the birth of his son must have looked like the ultimate way of protecting his child to a wet-behind-the-ears new father. And you’ll be the same, I know it, because he’s your mate’s child and he’ll be yours, no matter who his biological mother is, that’s just the way it works.”_

Lucia squeezes her fingers around Eris’, turning her gaze back out through the misted glass to watch her mate sparring with his Alpha, the steam rising from their bare flesh in the frigid air, and mulling over her friend’s words, hoping with all her heart and soul that Eris is right.

With the men having blown off some of their frustration with their work-out session, the couples retire to their own rooms, Lucia dozing on the bed while Norman takes a shower before joining her. Quietly, apart from the muffled giggles issuing from both of them, they make love, finishing their interrupted celebration from earlier that was so unexpectedly cut short and then curl together in a satisfied tangle to fall asleep until the watery moon is high in the sky. The temperature has plummeted even more, making it a little uncomfortable even for them as they race to the clearing to strip and Shift, Lucia shivering a little until her thick coat is in place over her body and they set off as a group into the woods. They race each other, tumbling and tangling in a never-ending knot of limbs as they stop to wrestle before taking off again at top speed, criss-crossing the nearby hillside in a full out celebration of what they are and what they can do. They stay out until the first fingers of dawn creep over the horizon and Sean shepherds them back to the house, nipping at their flanks when they go too slow, Shifting quickly and pulling on their clothes before their bodies lose too much of their heat.

Staying close together in their pack, shoulders jostling, sharing soft laughs and quiet words, they make their way back to the house. Sean, in the lead as usual, stops suddenly, his head whipping up as he throws out an arm, signaling them all to halt.

_“Do you smell that?”_ he asks pitching his voice so low that Lucia can barely make out the words even with her superior hearing.

She scents the air, as do the others, not catching it at first but then, with a slight change in the morning breeze, she finds what Sean can smell. There’s been another Werewolf in the area, somewhere close to the house, judging by the direction the scent is coming from. She feels Norman move up closer beside her, can feel the nerves thrumming tautly under his skin as his head swivels to scan the trees around them, his hand resting protectively at the small of her back, radiating his heat out across her skin. She realizes that she doesn’t feel scared, just curious at the thought of another wolf being so close to their home and, when Sean signals them forward again, each of them moving cautiously, alert for any signs that the interloper is still in the vicinity, Lucia inhales the deepening scent, committing it to her memory. The trail leads up to the back door, which is slightly ajar and then around to the front of the house where it disappears on the gravel drive, the scuffed up stones at their feet telling them that their mystery visitor drove up to and away from the house, trying first the front door and, when they found it locked, working their way around to the back to gain entry.

They follow the path back to the rear door, Sean entering first, poised and ready for a fight but relaxing as it becomes apparent that their guest is long gone, the scent only concentrated in the kitchen and not leading into any of the other rooms. Closing and locking the door behind them, Norman flicks on the light and Lucia has a momentary panic as she remembers they had left Beegle alone in the house, frantically calling his name until he appears, tail down and ears flat, looking rather sheepish for having let a stranger into his home but she doesn’t care, just hugs him tight and fusses over him until he looks himself again.

_“Lucia.”_

Norman’s voice is strained and she looks up at him from where she’s bent over Beegle to see him holding a thick, cream-colored envelope in his hands, her name intricately inked on the front in a flowing script penned in a vivid red ink that seems to swim before her eyes as she looks at it. Straightening up, she walks forward to take it from his fingertips, smelling the scent of the unknown wolf all over it as she flips it in her hands and slides her finger under the flap to open it. Inside is just a single sheet of heavy paper that matches the envelope, its surface covered in the same dense, red script and she starts to read, not looking at the others until she reaches the end, when she silently hands the page to Norman and backs up to lean against the sink, wondering if she’s going to be sick, feeling her stomach churn in discomfort. She watches as Norman’s eyes scan the page, sees his lips curling back from his teeth in a snarl as he reads the words on the page, the very descriptive, very accurate words that give a blow by blow account of their love-making session by the waterfall a few nights before, every intimate detail captured in that blood-red ink. The final line cementing what she already knew the second she saw the envelope in Norman’s hands – _‘I know what you are and I know what you did.’_ – her stalker had not only followed her from the city but was now revealed to be one of their own kind, bringing a whole new set of complications to the already fraught situation.


	22. Chapter 22

Norman is awake relatively early the next day, despite none of them having gone to bed until the morning sun was already shedding its golden glow throughout the house, the conversation twisting over and around this new development. Eventually, they’d called it a night and headed to bed but not before Norman had made a call to Jake at Sean’s request, telling him his presence was required to help take care of this situation before it escalated any further. This threw Eris into a fit of pique, claiming they could quite easily handle it themselves, a lone werewolf was no match for the four of them and they didn’t need to involve Jake in their business. Sean had calmly pointed out that they didn’t know yet if it was just one wolf they were dealing with or if their intruder had a pack of his own and he would feel better with their resident cop on hand to help them figure out what to do next. Norman had agreed and Eris had thrown them both a look of disgust before retiring to her room, Sean following after her once he was satisfied that Lucia was okay and he’d reassured her that they were all there for her and nothing bad was going to happen to her.

Lucia seems to be taking it all in her stride, whether it’s her new found confidence that her altered state brings as part of its nature or just that she feels safe among them, he’s not sure but he’s happy to see that, while she’s obviously concerned, she’s not freaking out over the whole thing. She was still sleeping that morning when he’d gently untangled himself from the warmth of her body and slipped quietly into the shower, unable to keep his body still any longer, the wolf in him needing to take action. As he comes back into the bedroom, rubbing absently at his stomach with a towel, he sees that she’s awake, her mouth crooked into a smile that brings a familiar tug to his heart, and he kneels over the bed to kiss her softly on the mouth, her hands reaching up to cup his face.

 _“Good morning, gorgeous,”_ he whispers against her lips.

 _“Mmm, mornin’”_ she answers, letting him go enough so that he can lay beside her.

_“How are you feeling?”_

_“Fine, a little anxious I guess. I feel like we should be doing something, trying to find this guy.”_

_“I know, babe, and we will as soon as Jake gets here. Sean is going to pick him up from the airport in a couple of hours and then we’ll make a plan together, okay?”_

She nods, stretching her arms above her head with a sudden yawn and he hears something rattle against the wooden headboard as her fingers knock against it. Tilting her head back, she reaches up, unhooking his talisman from the bedpost and letting it hang between them.

 _“Why don’t you wear this anymore?”_ she asks him, dangling the fine chain from her fingers and letting the filial at the end swing slightly. _“I’ve never seen Sean without his but you never even took it back to the city with you when we left.”_

He looks from the swirling, spinning object in her fingertips and up into her eyes.

_“Because I’m scared it might block you if you ever need me and you’re calling for me. We don’t have that connection, you and I, at least not yet. Or maybe it won’t ever come and Sean and I are some kind of freaks for being joined that way. I don’t know. But what I do know is that I can’t risk wearing it if there’s any chance it could stop me hearing you or feeling if you were in danger.”_

Lucia stops twirling the chain, folding the charm tightly into the palm of her hand for a moment before reaching out to drop it on the bedside table and then leaning back in to kiss him firmly on the lips.

 _“Okay, freak, let me take a quick shower and then maybe we can persuade the other freak to make us bacon pancakes for breakfast,”_ she says, slapping his ass as she climbs over him and heads into the bathroom.

Norman chuckles as he rolls off the bed to get dressed, heading downstairs to the quiet of the living room where he sprawls on one of the sofas, idly looking over one of the scripts he brought with him to occupy his mind while he waits for everyone else to join him. Lucia is first down, about twenty minutes later, dressed in comfortable jeans and a snug black top that accentuates her ample curves, her wet hair pinned up on top of her head, the glow on her skin making her look even more beautiful to him than normal. He reaches for her hand as she passes into the kitchen, their skin sliding together until their fingertips part and he looks after her with a sigh and a shake of his head before returning to his reading. He hears her set the coffee-maker in motion and start laying out plates and bowls for breakfast, knowing she’s making extra noise to rouse Sean from his slumber and, as if summoned by her will alone, he appears on the stairs, half-dressed as usual, running a hand through his unruly hair and barely grunting an acknowledgement when Norman says good morning.

Concentrating on the page in front of him, Norman is vaguely aware of Sean and Lucia talking in the kitchen, not focusing on their words as his mind picks again at the problem of Lucia’s stalker. He can hear Sean’s grumbling tone from the other room, the sound like a comforting blanket of white noise to his senses that’s abruptly yanked away as Sean drags Lucia into the living room, one hand clamped around her forearm.

 _“Do you know what I just caught your woman doing in the kitchen?”_ rumbles Sean, his sleepy demeanor replaced with one of fake outrage, aiming a kick Norman’s shin.

 _“What can I say, she’s a wild one,”_ replies Norman with a devilish grin in Lucia’s direction. _“She’ll clean up after herself, don’t worry!”_

Sean aims a harder kick in his direction, making Norman wince when the side of his bare foot connects with his shinbone.

_“She was in there, making you breakfast and I catch her picking all the raisins out of a bowl of Raisin Bran, so I ask her what she was doing and she tells me, ‘Oh, Norman doesn’t like the raisins, only the cereal.’ ‘No fucking shit,’ I told her. ‘I’ve been living with the dude on and off for more years than I want to count, I know he hates the fucking raisins but why the fuck are you taking them out for him?!’ And do you know what she said to me? ‘Because it makes him happy.’_

_I’m telling you now, brother, if you don’t ask this girl to marry you, I’m going to take you out into the goddamn woods, strap your naked ass to a tree and smear honey all over your damn Jimmy Johnson then watch while the bears gnaw it off!”_

_“There are no bears in Monterey,”_ says Norman, knowing perfectly well that there are but just enjoying poking at Sean in the middle of one of his rants.

 _“I will go find a fucking bear and bring it to you,”_ Sean rages comically. _“And, if by some chance, she says yes to your worthless ass, you better spend the rest of your life worshipping the very ground she walks on because you will never be worthy of the way this woman loves you.”_

 _“I plan on it,”_ Norman replies, never taking his eyes from Lucia’s face.

 _“Well… good,”_ huffs Sean, appearing to run out of steam. _“Okay, carry on.”_

He turns on his heel and tows a bemused-looking Lucia back to the kitchen while Norman shakes his head and smiles to himself, wondering if he can love the people in his life any more than he already does.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

With breakfast over, Sean takes their rental car to drive the sixty miles to the nearest airport to pick Jake up, insisting that the others wait behind as there are too many stretches of desolate road where they could encounter a problem and he’d feel safer if he went alone. Not wanting to stay in the house, each of them feeling a little like a sitting duck, Norman bundles the girls into the car, knowing that the town is having its annual Maple Festival and that he’ll feel safer if they’re surrounded by unsuspecting humans. The festival attracts thousands of visitors to the tiny town each year over two weekends and Norman immediately regrets bringing the car as they hit gridlock once they reach Main Street. Everyone just seems to be abandoning their vehicles on the side of the road so they follow suit, clipping on Beegle’s leash and joining the throngs of people making their way to the small cluster of local stores. The front lawn of the nearby inn is covered in pristine white tents housing a variety of home-made crafts and foods that has Norman’s stomach rumbling from down the street. The three of them mingle with the crowds for a while, Norman getting a few starts of recognition from some of the visitors but nobody really bothers him as they move from tent to tent, loading up on a variety of treats before making their way out of the mass of people and finding a quiet spot where they can sit.

The day is still chilly but the wan sun is bright as they sprawl out over a wooden bench backed up against a high brick wall that gives Norman a sense of security, his eyes scanning the faces of the people milling around the tents, his nose twitching for any hint of wolf on the air. With nothing out of the ordinary apparent in the immediate vicinity, he starts to relax just a fraction as they share out the warm pastries they’ve just bought, feeding bites to a begging Beegle, thinking that Sean was right about being here. No self-respecting werewolf would make a move among this many people and risk exposing themselves, no matter how crazy they were, at least he hopes they wouldn’t. Finishing his second pastry and wiping his fingers on his jeans, he realizes that they didn’t buy anything to drink so he tells the girls to stay put and heads across to the nearest tent selling refreshments, keeping one eye on them at all times while he waits in line, still scanning the area with his other senses. Juggling three cans of soda in one hand as he pockets his change, he walks back over, noticing that Lucia and Eris drop the conversation they had been having as he approaches.

 _“Got you diet,”_ he says, handing Eris a can with a smirk, _“figured you could use it.”_

She flips him off with one perfectly manicured middle finger then turns her attention to her drink as he hands Lucia hers and then flops to sit on the ground in front of them, the cool grass leeching some of his body heat almost immediately.

 _“So, what did I miss?”_ he asks casually, popping the tab on his drink and quickly slurping at the soda that foams out, catching the look that passes between the two of them.

 _“Lucia was just asking me about why I dislike Jake so much,”_ Eris tells him with a sigh and he sees the look of surprise that passes over Lucia’s face. _“Your girlfriend is like a cub with a bone when she wants to know something. You have my sympathies!”_

 _“Hey, I said you didn’t have to tell me,”_ says Lucia with an indignant shove to Eris’ shoulder.

 _“Really? Which one of the twenty times you’ve asked me was that?”_ asks Eris with a small, uncomfortable laugh and then sighs again. _“Maybe you should know.”_

 _“Eris,”_ Norman says, looking her in the eye, wanting her to know that she doesn’t have to do this, that he knows how hard it will be for her to re-open the past.

 _“It’s okay,”_ she tells him, giving him a sad smile and tapping the toe of her boot against his. _“I think it might do me good to share it with someone other than you. No offence.”_

He nods, leaning back on his elbows as she starts talking, keeping her voice low enough that the three of them will be the only ones to hear her words.

_“Did I ever tell you that Sean and I still live in the same house we bought when we first moved in together? No? Well, we love that house. In all these years, we’ve never wanted to leave. It was the first thing he wanted to do after he’d turned me, find me the perfect house to live in, he was obsessed there for a while but eventually he found what he was looking for and we moved in. I’m not even sure how long we’d been together at that point, sometimes it seems like years and others, like we’d only just met.”_

_“It was a year,”_ chimes in Norman. _“For someone who’s so anal about times and dates, your grasp on history sucks, Discordia.”_

 _“Well not all of us have such empty heads that we can fill them up with every moment of the past,”_ she retorts, turning back to Lucia. _“Anyway, we’d just moved into the house, things were going well, I was still adjusting to my new life but Sean had made the transition so easy I’d hardly had any problems._

_We threw a crazy house-warming party, invited everyone we knew and a bunch of people we didn’t, some wolves, some not, a few like Norman who knew our secret and kept it like their own. Back then, Jake was always part of our group, he’d been friends with Sean for years before I came along and we’d all hang out together. We had a much bigger pack back then, maybe eleven of us at one point which is crazy now, looking back on it._

_So, the party was in full swing and I was in the utility room getting more ice from the freezer when Jake comes in the back door, drunk off his head and you know how hard that is to do. Right away I can see he’s upset about something, his hands are shaking and he has this tormented look about him so I ask him what’s wrong. Jake was always this constant in our circle, always the upbeat guy ready for a beer or a joke, chasing anything in a skirt that took his fancy but the way he looked that night actually scared me. He looked like something had ripped his soul in two and he had no hope of ever putting the pieces back together._

_At first he didn’t want to tell me what was going on, kept saying he was fine and that he was sorry but he wouldn’t say what he was sorry for. Eventually I told him I had to get back to the party, that Sean would be wondering where I was and that he was welcome to go upstairs and sleep it off in one of the bedrooms. And that’s when he started to cry, huge drunken sobs that frightened me even more and I begged him to tell me what had happened. He seemed to struggle with it a little longer, I could almost see the internal dialogue he was having with himself and then in a rush, he told me that he’d found his mate and I was even more confused. I couldn’t understand why he wasn’t thrilled to have met the love of his life._

_That was when he told me that she was already in love with somebody else and everything fell into place. We only have that one person to be our mate for life, you already know that, whether they’re human or wolf, it doesn’t matter, but if they don’t love you back, you’re screwed. Imagine knowing that your whole life is going to be spent never having that love fulfilled, that you’ll never feel like that about anyone else, that every relationship you ever have is always going to fail because you’ll never love them like you love your mate. I’d heard about it happening from some of the others, even tales of two wolves falling for the same person, one killing the other only to find that the object of their desire could never love them back and I couldn’t begin to imagine how that would feel. I had Sean and he had me, it was as simple as that, there was never any question with us. I never contemplated loving anyone else form the second I met him , even before I knew what he was and I think that happened to you too._

_Now to see this horrible fate being wrought on someone I loved, somebody I called my family, was unbearable. My heart was breaking for him but I didn’t know what to do, I felt so inadequate in the face of his pain so I just wrapped him in my arms and held him tight, wishing I could do anything to take some of the hurt from him._

_And then he kissed me._

_I don’t even know how it happened and it was over before it even really began and, while the rational part of my mind knew that he didn’t mean it, the animal part of me was so shocked at being violated that way that I hit him. I hit him hard. And there he stood, with blood streaming from his face and he just kept saying that he was sorry, that he’d tried to deny it and let it go but I was his one and he couldn’t live without me, didn’t want to live without me._

_I didn’t know what to do, what could I have possibly said or done at that point? I remember telling him that I was Sean’s, I loved Sean and that was never going to change and then I recall being overwhelmed with a sudden feeling of outrage. I was angry at him for not having been man enough to keep this to himself, angry that he’d laid the burden of his secret on my shoulders without any thought of how I would live with knowing how he felt._

_I just started screaming at him, I know I wasn’t even making sense at that point and that was when Norman walked in and I thank whoever’s watching over me every day that it hadn’t been Sean. He’d been on his way outside for a smoke, heard me yelling like a crazy woman and had come to investigate. He took one look at the two of us and thought that Jake had tried to force himself on me. You should have seen him Lucia, he went beserk but you have to remember that he wasn’t the walking side of beef that he is now. Back then, he was a scrawny little runt, barely topped 100lbs soaking wet but he was tenacious, I’ll give him that. He put himself directly between me and a fully grown werewolf in its prime without a second’s hesitation, yelling at Jake to tell him what the fuck was going on._

_For his own safety, I dragged him out of the room and explained the situation to him even though I knew he couldn’t fully understand the ramifications of what it meant to Jake. I made him promise not to tell Sean, I knew it would break him if he knew, he loved Jake like his own brother but I knew he’d kill him if he found out and I was pretty sure Norman knew that too. As much as I despised Jake in that moment, he was still my family and I had to protect him. So, Norman took care of him, got him away from the house before Sean even knew he was there while I went back to the party and my life like nothing had happened._

_A few days later Jake came by to apologize but I couldn’t stand to look at him, I felt responsible and guilty for the hurt and remorse I could see in his eyes and I didn’t know how we would ever get past it. I started yelling at him about some fictitious slight he had made against one of my girlfriends, told him that he disgusted me and then walked out when Sean had come to see what all the commotion was about._

_Not long after that, Jake put in for a transfer to New York, told Sean that he needed to make some changes in his life that he couldn’t do while he was living the life he was in California. Sean was sad to see him go, of course, but he supported him in what he wanted to do and when we did happen to cross paths over the years, we’ve maintained our faux dislike of each other, it just seems easier this way, for both of us. Sean gave up trying to reconcile us a long time ago and that’s fine by me. It hurts too much to be around him for too long, knowing how he feels and knowing that I can never give him that, I feel that I’m torturing him every time I look his way even though I know it’s nobody’s fault, just fate’s cruel hand stirring the pot.”_

_“It’s like a wound that never completely scabs over and heals,”_ says Norman, meeting Eris’ gaze. _“You have no idea what he went through when he got to New York. He was broken for a very long time and was looking for anything to take his pain away. He was drinking 24-7 but the effects never lasted long enough to keep him distracted so he looked for other ways._

_He started seeking out other wolves, tracking them down in his spare time and challenging the ones who would fight to take him on. He turned up on my doorstep so many times with his body in shreds that he started calling my apartment the ER and he refused to let himself heal properly, keeping the wounds open until they scarred instead of knitting together, like each one was a reminder torn in his flesh of what he’d done to you._

_I did my best to take care of him and when the wolves started getting wise to his ways and stopped accepting his challenges, he threw himself into his work, taking on every dangerous assignment he could find until the guys at his precinct started calling him Jake ‘Suicide’ Wolfe and nobody would partner with him anymore. I think that all he wanted was for someone or something to end him.”_

_“I didn’t know,”_ whispers Eris, tears spilling down her cheeks.

_“There was nothing you could have done, even if you had known. He needed to punish himself, lose himself in his misery.”_

_“But he’s okay now? I mean I can’t believe we’re talking about the same guy that comes to our place every week and makes me laugh until I can’t breathe,”_ Lucia asks, taking Eris’ hand in hers and holding it tight.

_“Okay? No, I don’t think he’ll ever be okay, baby, but you know what they say about time healing all wounds. I think it’s true. I think time and distance helped him get past the all-consuming need for destruction and penance that was filling him and let him learn to live with what happened. I guess he keeps it locked up so far inside that you’d never know it was there unless you can read him like I can.”_

_“I’m glad he had you to be his friend,”_ Eris says, wiping her tears from her cheeks with her fingertips and giving him a weak smile.

_“Well, he helped me too, as fucked up as he was, he took care of me after Sean turned me, before I brought Mingus home to live with me. He helped me adjust to what I was and the potential I had waiting for me.”_

A heavy silence falls over their small group, the sounds of the festival filling the air around them as they get lost in their own thoughts.

 _“Well,”_ Eris says abruptly, slapping her palms on her thighs and making Norman jump, _“I think this calls for something a little stronger than Diet Coke. What do you say we go home and crack open that bottle of whiskey Sean’s been hiding since we got here?”_

 _“Now you’re talking,”_ Norman replies, rubbing his palms together in anticipation.

 _“Okay but I have to pee first,”_ says Lucia getting to her feet, _“or I won’t make it home.”_

 _“I’ll come with you,”_ Norman tells her.

_“Don’t be silly, the door to the inn is right there, you can watch me go in from here. Nobody is going to mess with me with all these people around, I’ll be fine.”_

She doesn’t wait for him to answer, just darts off into the crowd and he climbs quickly to his feet so that he can watch her until she’s disappeared inside the white-painted building, Beegle straining at the leash in his hand as he looks after his mistress. Norman flicks a glance at Eris, noting that her gaze is still turned inward, her mind obviously still occupied with thoughts of Jake and he sits on the bench next to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and drawing her to him, a move she doesn’t resist, keeping his eyes firmly fixed on the inn door the whole time. His mind is filled with the past, remembering Jake’s dark days as if they were yesterday and he realizes with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach that that’s how he would feel if Lucia hadn’t loved him. He’d never truly been able to comprehend Jake’s pain before, even thinking once or twice in the beginning that everybody was being a little over-dramatic about the whole thing. His change had brought a little more understanding of the situation although he had always still been half-convinced that it was one of Sean’s bullshit stories until he’d met Lucia and now he doesn’t have to imagine how the devastation of not having her would feel, it’s already etched into his soul.

He curses himself a little for letting his mind wander, sitting up straighter when Beegle whines at his feet and he can see Lucia emerge from the inn and start down the wooden steps in front. He’s out of his seat before her foot hits the first one, is across the lawn and through the crowd by the time she reaches the bottom, his heart thumping painfully in his chest.

 _“What happened?”_ he demands, taking in her wide eyes and the slight tremor in her hand when he grasps her forearm.

 _“He’s here,”_ she whispers, so low that he has to lean forward to catch her words and that’s when the smell hits him, the scent of the unknown wolf rising from her skin like a miasma.

 _“Did he hurt you?”_ he asks, running his hands over her arms and torso, gaining some curious looks from people passing by.

 _“No,”_ she says quickly, stilling his hands. _“I’m fine.”_

He can see that she’s far from fine but he can’t see any signs of physical trauma so he steers her away from the steps, heading for the relative privacy at the side of the building where they’re joined by Eris.

 _“What’s going…”_ she starts to ask. _“Jesus, Lucia, you stink. Oh fuck, is that..?”_

 _“Yes,”_ Lucia quietly answers. _“I came out of the bathroom and saw they were selling those maple cookies at the reception desk so I thought I’d pick some up to take home for Mrs. H. I was waiting to pay when I suddenly felt all the hair on my body bristling at once and I knew someone was watching me. By the time I could pinpoint his smell it was too late. He came up behind me, saying my name loudly like we were old friends and then spun me around into a big hug. He told me to give you a message, said to tell you ‘an eye for an eye’. Norman, what does that even mean?”_

 _“I don’t know,”_ Norman spits, pacing back and forth, raking his hand through his hair. _“Fucking mongrel.”_

_“And then, he was just gone. One second he was squeezing me hard enough I thought my ribs were going to pop and the next he’d disappeared.”_

_“Did you recognize him, Lucia? Have you seen him before?”_

_“I don’t think so,”_ she replies hesitantly after taking a moment to think. _“I mean, I’m positive I’ve never met him before but there was something about him that seemed weirdly familiar, like I did know him somehow. I just can’t put my finger on it though.”_

 _“I can,”_ Norman says in a low growl, _“but not here. We should get back to the house, Sean and Jake will be there soon.”_

_“Good, because I need to take a shower and get this stench off of me before I throw up.”_

_“No,”_ says Norman a little more sharply than he intended to. _“I need Jake to get the scent when he arrives, Sean too but especially Jake.”_

 _“Why?”_ asks Lucia as he hustles them back down the street to the car.

_“Because I have a hunch I know who this asshole is, at least I think I do and I need Jake to tell me that I’m not crazy.”_


	23. Chapter 23

Lucia wonders if this is what being crazy feels like, her skin is crawling as though a thousand tiny beetles are burrowing beneath the surface and the stench surrounding her is making her want to tear her own nose from her face. She’s pacing the house from room to room, growling softly at Norman every time she passes him in his position on the bottom of the stairs. Eris has retired to her room, ostensibly to take a nap but Lucia knows the weight of their conversation that afternoon must be weighing on her and she wishes there was something she could do to take some of the burden from her friend.

When she finally hears the sound of Sean’s rental car approaching the house, Lucia rips open the front door and races outside to stand, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Sean pulls the car up and parks. Jake is barely out of the passenger seat before she launches herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him close.

 _“Uh, hi Lucia, I missed you too,”_ he tells her in a puzzled tone, wrapping his arms around her waist and returning her hug.

 _“Sniff me!”_ she demands, burying her face in his neck.

 _“What?”_ he asks, obviously even more confused.

_“Smell me, I have stalker wolf scent all over me and your sadistic buddy here won’t let me shower until you’ve gotten a good whiff of it.”_

_“What the fuck?”_ she hears Sean ask behind her. _“What happened?”_

Norman quickly explains while she detangles herself from Jake, feeling a pang of empathy for him pull at her heart as she thinks on his situation with Eris. Sean pulls on her hand, embracing her while he inhales the still pungent scent lingering on her skin.

 _“Okay, so it’s the same guy from the other night,”_ he says, letting her go with a squeeze.

 _“Jake, do you recognize it?”_ Norman asks and Lucia turns back in Jake’s direction, her curiosity overriding her desire to bolt for the bathroom now that everyone is familiar with the way she smells.

 _“Well I know it can’t be who you’re thinking it is but its damn close,”_ Jake answers. _“Brother, maybe?”_

 _“Ha!”_ exclaims Norman. _“I knew I wasn’t imagining it.”_

 _“Who?”_ asks Sean and Lucia in unison, looking from Jake to Norman.

 _“Gabe,”_ Norman states simply and Lucia feels an icy wave wash over her at the mention of that name and all the associations it brings, things she was finally starting to think she had buried for good.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Lucia stands under the scalding stream of water from the shower, rigorously rinsing the conditioner from her hair, her mind picking the scabs off of a lot of wounds she’d thought were almost healed. She remembers Gabe taking her that day, the fear and confusion she’d felt as he’d revealed a glimpse of what he was to her. She unlocks the memory of the bone-numbing terror she’d felt being alone in that darkened basement, clueless as to why she was there. As she scrubs furiously at her skin with copious amounts of body wash, she allows herself to take the top off of the deepest wound of all: Norman. She turns over how she’d felt that day, from her exultation at seeing him there, knowing that somehow he’d make everything okay to Gabe’s revelation of his true nature and his betrayal of her. To her surprise as she pulls each feeling out and analyzes it, she finds that they’re not as crippling as she thought they would be. She’d pretty much locked away every part of that day and the following time with Eris and Sean and had refused to give it a second thought, preferring to move forward with her new life.

Now, looking back at that day, all she really feels is anger for what Gabe did to her, did to Norman. Although she can remember how scared she felt, the helplessness of her situation now just fuels her rage at the fact that somebody else is trying to make her feel that way again. This is her life now and she loves it even if she never had a choice in what happened to her and she sure as hell isn’t going to let some mongrel with a hard-on for vengeance ruin what she’s sacrificed so much to have. Slamming the tap all the way around to cold, she lets the icy deluge cool the scrubbed raw surface of her skin until she shivers a little under its caress and turns it off. Squeezing the water from her hair, she wraps a towel around her body and goes into the bedroom where she finds Norman sitting on the edge of the bed, one foot turned under to support the other one, his knee bouncing as he worries the tip of his thumb between his teeth. He looks up as she enters, concern deepening the lines on his forehead which just adds to the simmering pool of fire in her stomach.

 _“Sean and Jake are making some calls,”_ he tells her. _“Reaching out to some of the other packs, trying to see if they can find out who we’re dealing with. It’s going to take a while though. Half of them won’t talk to Sean because he’s a traitor in their eyes and the rest won’t talk to Jake because he’s a cop.”_

_“It doesn’t matter.”_

_“What do you mean?”_ he asks, the worried look on his face melting into confusion instead.

_“It doesn’t matter if Jake finds out who he is or not. All that matters is that he’s threatening me or someone I love and you know what I just realized? I’m a fucking werewolf and this isn’t some crazed fangirl projecting her angst because I’m dating the man of her dreams, this is another werewolf who wants my mate dead for some ridiculous race war and that means all bets are off. I don’t care who he is or why he’s here, he’s a threat to my family and if he can’t be stopped then he’s going to die, end of story. I may not be the biggest or the most experienced fighter but if it comes down to it, I will end him any way I can.”_

_“Who are you and what have you done with my sweet Lucia?”_ Norman inquires with a small laugh after digesting her words.

_“Oh, your sweet Lucia is still in here, don’t worry, but she just had an epiphany in the shower that she doesn’t have to be a victim anymore. She’s a badass werewolf and she’s ready to deal with anything that gets in her way. Does that bother you?”_

_“Nope,”_ he answers with a sly grin, reaching out to tug on the bottom of her towel. _“Badass werewolf, huh?”_

 _“Well, I might be,”_ she laughs, leaning into the hand he now has pushed up under the towel to caress her hip. _“I guess we’ll find out. Do you have a problem with that?”_

 _“Not at all,”_ he says, shaking his head as he pulls the towel from her body to leave her naked before him. _“You look pretty badass to me.”_

He leans his head down to kiss at her stomach, leaving little nips with his teeth on her skin and she tangles her fingers into his hair. Pulling sharply on his head, she forces him away from her flesh then slides her hands down to pull his t-shirt off over his head. He leans forward again, this time his mouth connecting with her breast, his eager tongue flicking over her nipple until he pulls it to hardness. She lets him tease her for a little while, running her fingers through the soft length of his hair before forcing him back again. Reaching down, she swiftly unzips his jeans and he wriggles his narrow hips as she pulls them off of him, tossing them on the floor and gazing at his semi-hard cock with a lick of her lips. He stretches a hand out towards her thigh but she bats it away with a growl, forcing him onto his back and climbing on to straddle his hips. He gives a deep groan, throwing an arm up over his head as she grinds her open pussy against the soft flesh of his cock, rocking her hips back and forth until he’s as rigid as a flagpole and she can feel her wetness seeping out to slick his shaft.

 _“Want to see how fucking badass I am?”_ she demands gruffly and he moans again as she slides back down his thighs to lick a broad stripe up the underside of his cock, pressing her tongue against the ridges of his veins and swirling it over his head.

 _“Fuck yes, Lucia,”_ he breathes out and she looks up to see the lust glazing his eyes.

 She moves back up his body, feeling powerful and in charge, letting her claws extend just a little to rake at the skin of his chest, opening thin lines of blood that she quickly licks away leaving his unmarred skin behind. She grinds against his cock again, using his body to pleasure herself, the slick stimulation making her clit swell and ache until she’s craving a deeper, more intense touch. In one quick move, she’s climbed his torso to straddle his chest, her thighs spread almost painfully wide to accommodate the width of him, his upper arms pinned between her knees. A low rumble sounds in his chest, vibrating up through her and she sees his nostrils flare at the scent of her sex so close to him.

 _“Do you want it?”_ she offers as he licks his lips, the sight of his tongue sending a delicious shiver through her.

 _“Yes,”_ he begs and she can feel his body straining under her.

 _“Then take it,”_ she commands, raising herself to slide forward and put her aching pussy in reach of his willing mouth.

He doesn’t hesitate and the initial swipe of his tongue against her sensitive wetness has her gripping the headboard so tightly that the antique wood creaks under her fingers. He circles her clit with his tongue, the tip tracing intricate patterns across it until she’s panting above him and then he pushes up into her wetness, licking at her hard. Lucia whines low in her throat and she swears she feels him chuckle beneath her but she’s too distracted by his long tongue fucking her to do anything about it. She undulates her hips over his face, wanting him deeper, feeling his nose pressed against her clit as he buries his tongue in her hole as far as he can. With a concentrated effort, she frees one hand from its death grip on the headboard and reaches back behind her, fingers skimming across the rising and falling skin of his torso, retracting her claws as she grabs the turgid meat of his cock, feeling the sticky slide of pre-cum coat her fingers as she wraps around him and starts slowly fisting him.

He hums against her pussy, his breath coming in staccato bursts beneath her but she has to give him credit for not losing his concentration on the task at hand even when she twists her thumb over his sensitive slit before sliding her fingers back down his length. His hands grip the soft flesh of her ass, kneading her cheeks apart as he steadies her above his face at the same time thrusting his hips up into her slick palm as she pulls faster on his cock. His lips wrap around her clit, sucking hard and for a moment everything seems to freeze before a white light washes over her vision and she comes, shuddering against his lips, his tongue lapping rapidly at the flood of juices pouring from her. The sharp sting of his claws in her ass cheeks snaps her out of her orgasm high and she realizes she’s clenched around his swollen cock maybe a little too tightly, his body rigid under hers.

With a throaty laugh, she loosens her grip just a little and continues her rapid strokes along his shaft until he’s moaning against her wetness, his tongue still darting out in small licks that have her aching to come again. With a guttural growl that makes her pussy clench hard, he comes in her hand, thick globs of it spattering hotly against her back and she moans in delight. When he’s done, his chest rising deeply under her, the sound of his heart like thunder in her ears, she slides back down his torso, coming to sit astride his stomach, her body aching to be released again. She brings her sticky hand to her mouth and lets him watch as she slowly licks every drop of his come from her fingers, his bottom lip captured firmly between his teeth, fangs plainly showing as he lets the beast enjoy the show. Sucking hard on her first and second fingers, savoring the salty musky taste of him on her tongue, she slips them slowly from her lips, smiling wickedly as she watches his eyes narrow while they track her movement down to where she slides them against the wet heat of her pussy and strokes herself gently.

When the low rumble issues from his chest again, she smiles wider, leaning back a little until he takes the hint and draws his knees up behind her to support her against his thighs. Lucia brings her legs up and, one at a time, rests her feet against his shoulder blades, steadying herself on the bed with her free hand until he has an uninterrupted view of her fingers sliding into her wet pussy.

 _“You like to watch, huh, Wolf Boy?”_ she whispers, knowing full well that he does and he grins his affirmation, the yellow glow of his eyes never leaving the sight of her pussy spread open before him. _“Good because you know it turns me on to do this for you, show you how wet you made me, let you see how much you turned me on by licking my pussy that I need to get off again just from thinking about it.”_

His hands grab at her ankles, circling around them as she teases her clit with her thumb and forefinger, rolling and pulling it between them until she’s gasping softly. He bares his teeth at the sound, lips pulling back as his tongues flicks out to curl over one extended canine. Lucia whimpers at both the sight and the stimulation her fingers are pulling from the tingling flesh beneath them, pushing back inside herself, twisting and stroking her sweet spot, feeling her sticky juices flowing freely against the hot flesh of his stomach beneath her open thighs. She jerks a little against him, hips trying to rise as she fingers herself under his intense gaze and his grasp on her ankles tightens to hold her steady. She can feel her body rushing to its second climax, rubbing furiously against her clit until she gives a little yelp as she lets go, her sticky fingers scratching against the rough hair on Norman’s belly until she’s finished and he releases her legs. Lucia slips off of his body, collapsing bonelessly to the bed beside him, his hand reaching out to wrap around the back of her thigh while she rests her head on his knee.

 _“Fucking beautiful,”_ he murmurs, pulling the wolf back inside so that the blue of his eyes looks even more striking to her than normal.

 _“Right back at you,”_ she replies with a breathy laugh, leveraging herself up to curl across his torso in her favorite position.

 _“My beautiful badass,”_ he tells her with a smirk, running his fingers down her spine in a move that makes her want to purr.

 _“What time is it?”_ she sighs, absently rubbing her thumb over the tattoo on his chest. _“I guess we should get back downstairs to see what’s going on.”_

 _“They’re still making calls,”_ he says, cocking his head to one side, _“and it’s still early yet. We should probably sleep a little. I’m sure Sean will want to go out tonight. Besides, you’re gonna need another shower. I got you a little messy there, babe.”_

 _“Good,”_ she says, wriggling a little as he tickles at her back. _“I’m yours, let them fucking smell it on me, I don’t care.”_

 _“I don’t know what the hell has gotten into you tonight, baby, but I fucking love it,”_ he laughs, wrapping his arms around her and planting a big kiss on her forehead.

Lucia snuggles against him, drinking in the scent of his skin under hers, closing her eyes and letting her sated body relax into sleep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

A soft tapping on the bedroom door pulls her back to reality with a start, Norman shifting under her as she sits up to release him. He pads to the door and cracks it slightly open.

 _“Playtime’s over,”_ comes Sean’s voice through the gap. _“Get dressed, Jake has something for us.”_

Norman closes the door and looks at Lucia for a moment before both of them reach for their clothes and start to dress, a bubble of nervous anticipation growing in Lucia’s gut.

Downstairs, they find everybody seated at the kitchen table, Sean handing out plates heaped high with fried chicken and mashed potatoes.

 _“When did you do all this?”_ Norman asks, taking a plate and passing it to Lucia before grabbing his own and flopping into the seat between Eris and Jake who are studiously ignoring each other.

 _“While you were sleeping, Princess,”_ Sean tells him, setting a steaming gravy boat in the center of the table alongside a bowl of gleaming, buttery-yellow corn cobs.

Norman just grins at him in reply, already halfway through devouring his first piece of chicken, the juices running over his chin. Everyone follows his lead, gorging themselves on the late night feast Sean’s created until Norman pushes away his plate with a resounding belch, wiping at his jaw with the back of his hand and turning in his seat to face Jake.

 _“So, Detective Wolfe,”_ he says, clapping his friend hard enough on the shoulder to cause him to choke a little on the mouthful of chicken he was busily chewing, _“why don’t you share what you’ve discovered with the rest of the class?”_

Jake swallows hastily, reaching for his beer and taking a long swallow before clearing his throat to speak.

 _“His name is Azrael,”_ he begins.

 _“The Archangel of Death? Well that’s not too ominous, is it?”_ interrupts Eris before Norman elbows her in the ribs to be quiet.

 _“He’s Gabe - Gabriel’s twin,”_ Jake continues, ignoring the distraction and not looking in Eris’ direction, _“non-identical obviously and they’re as pureblood as they come. Both parents can trace their lineage back to the Primals although, ironically both of them had renounced their heritage and chosen to live as human. Their father was a preacher, a religious zealot who believed God would forgive him for what he was as long as he spread the good word and denied his wolf-side. Mother ran away from her family, in denial of what she was, quite possibly a little deranged already – there was a lot of inbreeding in that bloodline. Inevitably they came together, discovered that they were destined to be mates and set up a cozy little home together in the back woods of Louisiana._

_Father preached to anyone that would listen to him and Mama followed him around like the dutiful little wife and things might have carried on that way for years if Mama hadn’t gotten herself knocked up. Preacher man snapped, completely lost his mind. Locked her up in the basement for nine months until she popped those puppies out and then ripped her throat out. Nobody knows why he didn’t kill the boys too, maybe because they looked human, in God’s image and not that of the beast, I couldn’t say._

_Anyway, he raised them, taught them every day of their miserable lives that they were abominations in the eyes of God and they had to deny their true nature or they’d be damned to Hell for all eternity. Then, when they were fourteen, they slaughtered him, stringing him up in his beloved church for everyone to see. By the time the cops arrived, they were like ghosts on the wind. Seems one of their mother’s pack had tracked them down while looking for her, spent some time showing them their true potential and then spirited them away once they’d taken revenge for her death at the hands of their father. The cops handling the case had no clue how to find them, their father had kept them pretty in seclusion all of their lives, nobody even really knew what they looked like, and so they just vanished, rejoined their bloodline and, from what I hear, embraced it in every way. The ‘want it, take it’ mentality was strong in them and they’d enforce however they wanted – murder of humans meant nothing to them. And they took sadistic delight in taking out any werewolves they deemed impure or traitorous to the bloodlines, twisting their own overtly religious upbringing to preach on the sanctity of keeping the species pure and free from the taint of human blood.”_

_“Well boohoo,”_ Lucia scoffs when he’s finished and everyone looks her way. _“Mommy died and daddy didn’t love us, wah, wah, wah. I don’t care who they were, what they did or who Azrael is now. All that I’m concerned with is where he is and how do we stop him.”_

 _“He’s dangerous, Lucia, probably psychotic and not too thrilled about Norman killing his brother,”_ says Sean calmly.

 _“Yeah, well I wasn’t too thrilled about being ripped from my life and forced into something I had no idea existed by his psycho brother but you know what? I dealt with it because that’s what rational human beings do, we learn from what life throws at us, we adapt and we keep on going, we don’t start a race war over who a person’s parents are. We’re dangerous too, aren’t we? Or am I sitting at a table of kittens?”_ she asks, raising her voice, her fingertips digging into the surface of the wooden table.

 _“Don’t mess with her, she had an epiphany,”_ Norman informs the others, ducking as she reaches out to cuff his ear.

_“Us being dangerous has nothing to do with it, Lucia, we need to be smart here. You can’t just go off all riled up thinking that muscles and outrage are going to do the job. What if he’s not alone, huh? Did you think of that? Just because we haven’t seen or smelled any others in the area, doesn’t mean that he doesn’t have a pack of his own holed up somewhere. Hell, we didn’t even know he was here until he’d been in our damn home._

_Tonight, we’ll go out and scout the area. We definitely know that he was at the waterfall the other night while you two were performing your little water ballet so we’ll start there, see if we can find a trail that will lead us to where he’s hiding and then we’ll make a decision from there.”_

Lucia feels the weight in the room shift with Sean’s words, everyone naturally deferring to him as pack leader and she finds that she doesn’t resent it in the slightest as she thought she might. Although she and Norman respect each other as equals, sometimes the dominant male part of his nature does slip out and she’ll loudly dismiss him with a laugh if he tries to tell her what to do but with Sean it feels different somehow, more organic and she realizes it doesn’t make her feel any less valued to follow his direction.

With a plan in place everyone goes outside, locking Beegle securely in the house and heading through the darkness to Shift under cover of the trees. Lucia changes quickly, her body eager to be on the hunt, and turns her head in time to catch sight of Jake, his naked back to her as he stretches before he initiates his Shift. She knows she should look away, knows that he’d be mortified if he caught her, but she can’t, her eyes are glued to the roadmap of scar tissue that crisscrosses his body in a series of dark lines drawn on his skin, the visual evidence of his love for Eris written in his flesh. She finally averts her gaze as he drops to all fours and call forth his wolfen form, wondering how he’s explained his scars to Sean over the years and what his excuse was to Isobel since Lucia knows that they’ve been hooking up quite regularly since she introduced them at the gallery. Norman interrupts her thoughts with a bump to her shoulder and she shakes herself, setting her mind to the problem at hand, nudging him back and reaching up to snap playfully at his jaw, him tilting his head up out of her reach. A short growl from Sean silences their play and they follow him, moving in single file as he leads them up the mountain, their paws nearly silent on the chilled earth, nothing but the white plumes of their breath left hanging in the air to mark their passing as they fly through the woods.

Lucia’s flanks are heaving by the time they crest the rocks above the waterfall and she dips her muzzle gratefully to drink from the fresh water once Sean has given the all clear. With everybody having taken their fill, Sean splits them up, Jake staying up top above the waterfall, Lucia and Norman taking one side of the pool at the bottom and Sean and Eris taking the other. Lucia treks carefully over the damp ground, trying to be thorough as she sifts through the myriad of scents around the area, her wide nose flaring at each new one and then discarding it when her sense memory tells her it’s not what she’s looking for. She can feel Norman close by, knowing that he’s not going to let her too far out of his sight even with the additional protection of their pack nearby. She moves methodically out from the base of the falls, working her way back and forth between the pool itself and the edge of the tree-line. Her mouth salivates a little as she picks up Norman’s distinctive scent on the ground overlaid with her own and she recalls the night they spent there, tinged now by the knowledge that they were being watched. But, instead of letting it make her feel violated as she did when she saw the picture of them on their rooftop, she feeds it to the fire of rage that’s burning inside her, using it to steel her resolve to put an end to this once and for all.

After over an hour of searching, it’s Eris that actually finds something, her low whine bringing them all immediately to her position, Lucia breathing a mental sigh of relief. She was starting to think this guy was some sort of ghost or Houdini, able to conceal himself right under their noses and she realizes that she wasn’t far wrong as she approaches Eris, butting her softly with her head. Hidden behind a cluster of boulders sunk into the lower edge of the pool, where the water overflows to continue its journey downstream, is a single smudged paw print, too big to be anything other than one of theirs. Eris looks at Lucia with an inquisitive whine and Lucia shakes her head from side to side: no, she and Norman didn’t come this far down the pool. Dipping her head, she scents the immediate vicinity, furious to know that he was this close to them the whole time and there, on the rock’s surface just above the water line, she finds what she’s looking for, the pungent aroma flooding the receptors in her brain and forcing a growl from her throat. With the placement of that mark on the rock and the position of the print in the mud at the water’s edge, she can only surmise that he submerged himself, keeping his body half-Shifted to combat the cold water and be able to grip the rock while he watched them through a narrow gap, never making a sound or moving a muscle until presumably they’d left.

She growls again, more insistent this time and Sean silences her once more, morphing his body into a half-Shift, his features resolving into something a little more human as he pulls himself up on his haunches, resting one hand against the ground to steady himself.

 _“We’ll split up, take either side of the river. This bastard must have gotten out of the water at some point and I want to know where,”_ he tells them, his voice deeper and slightly distorted by the fangs crowding his jaw. _“Eris, you go with Norman and Lucia down the left bank, Jake you’re with me.”_

Eris expresses her dislike of this idea with a loud growl and a clash of her teeth in his direction.

 _“Just do it,”_ he snaps back at her with a monstrous growl of his own and she lowers her head, her tail down between her legs.

For all her sass and insolence in their human relationship, Lucia thinks, Eris obeys him as readily as any of them as their Alpha, even if she doesn’t agree with his choices. Satisfied that he’s been understood, Sean pushes his Shift back into his full wolf form and, with a quick shake from head to tail, he takes Jake and leads him back up the side of the waterfall, disappearing into the tree-line above, heading upstream for a better place to cross before they make their way back down again on the other bank. Eris watches them go, her eyes tracing them until they vanish from sight and Norman nudges her into movement, giving a low whine. She snaps irritably at his haunches as he passes her but falls in behind him as he leads them down alongside the river, Lucia bringing up the rear.

They spread out, Lucia closest to the water’s edge, Eris in the middle and Norman hugging the trees, keeping abreast of each other as best they can in a formation that acts as a triple-check for any scent of wolf. If Lucia should happen to miss the exit point from the water, there’s a pretty good chance that one of the others will pick it up. It’s a solid strategy and she can’t fault its efficiency but it’s just so damn time consuming, Lucia grumbles to herself. She’s itching to bound ahead, track every inch of the river as fast as she can but she knows she’d be likely to miss something that way so she keeps up the tedious pace. She turns her head skyward for a moment, almost convinced she can feel dawn approaching already and a movement across the river freezes her in her tracks, the hackles rising on her neck before she realizes it’s just Sean and Jake, already caught up to their position. The back and forth technique doesn’t seem quite as efficient but Lucia has to concede that the terrain on their side is a lot more rocky, the river cutting a deep channel that would make climbing out quite difficult and not such a likely route for their wolf.

Continuing downstream, Lucia’s frustration growing with each step, she lifts her muzzle from the earth when she really can see the sky lightening in the East. Her ears swivel forward, picking up the muted roar of rushing water and she realizes that they’ve nearly come as far as they can go, the Great Falls are just ahead, and if she stretches up her neck she can just see the iron bridge spanning its width. Either this wolf floated away over the falls or he has some hereto unknown ability to change himself into a bird and fly away, she muses chuffing out a disgusted sigh, or we just missed his exit point. She knows they have to leave in a matter of minutes, they can’t be this close to town when day breaks and they still have to traverse the bridge to meet the others on the back road that leads home. And just like that, Lucia knows where her stalker wolf is hiding, mentally kicking herself for not figuring it out sooner and saving them this fruitless night of searching. With a tiny yip, she shoots of downhill, muscles stretching as she pushes herself to full speed, hearing Norman’s questioning bark behind her but not stopping, knowing that he’ll be tight on her heels.

She races onto the iron bridge, skidding to a halt in the center, peering down through the angled railings to the Old Mill below, her fur bristling, ears flat to her skull and her lips pulled back from her teeth, a low continuous growl rumbling from the center of her chest. The others join her from either side and the five of them stand, shoulder to shoulder in the pre-dawn light, staring down until each of them is giving her an answering growl of their own.


	24. Chapter 24

Lucia barely sleeps, her mind and body geared up for action and she can feel Norman’s restlessness next to her as well. Finally, she gives up, throwing back the comforter and getting out of bed to pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading downstairs to make coffee only to find that Jake has beaten her to it.

 _“Mornin’”_ he grins at her as she pours out two mugs and hands one to Norman who has trailed her into the kitchen.

 _“Morning,”_ she replies, taking a seat next to him at the table, Norman acknowledging him with a grunt and burying his face in his coffee mug. _“You’re dressed. Going somewhere?”_

_“Yeah, I thought I’d take a drive into town, see if any of the locals have seen any strange faces about, maybe get an idea if our lone wolf brought any company with him.”_

_“Want some help?”_ Lucia asks, desperate to be doing anything except stay in the house all day, and Norman growls into his coffee.

 _“Nah, I work better alone,”_ Jake replies, shooting a glance in Norman’s direction, _“besides I don’t think your boyfriend here would be too happy about that.”_

 _“Pfft, he’s not the boss of me,”_ says Lucia with a snort and another growl reverberates around the inside of Norman’s mug.

_“Okay, while you two lovebirds work out who’s wearing the pants in your relationship, I’m going to work. I’ll keep in touch.”_

He gets up and heads for the front door, Lucia using his departure to lean over and plant a sneaky kiss on Norman’s bare shoulder. She’s about to follow it with another when she spies Jake’s phone lying forgotten on the table. Snatching it up and calling his name, she runs into the hallway and finds him standing in the open doorway looking down at something on the front step. She draws level with his elbow, following his gaze down to see a large brown box on the doorstep tied with an over-sized floppy bow the color of fresh blood, her name written across the surface of the box in the same color.

 _“Well it’s not ticking,”_ says Jake wryly.

 _“No because that’s not his message at all,”_ Lucia answers, feeling Norman come up behind her, his hands snaking to her hips as he leans over to see what they’re looking at.

Lucia tilts her head, the smell of wolf strong on the morning air and she’s willing to bet anything that his trail doesn’t end at the drive this time but leads all the way back to the Old Mill.

 _“He knew we were there this morning,”_ she states, hearing two sets of footsteps on the stairs behind her as Sean and Eris join them in the now-crowded hallway. _“This is just his way of letting us know that he doesn’t care if we know where he is.”_

She steps out and crouches next to the box, pushing the ribbon off the sides and sliding her nail against the sticky tape holding it closed.

 _“What are you doing?”_ Norman asks sharply.

 _“Lucia, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea,”_ adds Sean but it’s too late.

With a pop, she slits the tape, opening the flaps to reveal another box inside, this one a plastic green storage tub with the lid snapped firmly in place.

 _“Do you smell that?”_ asks Jake.

 _“Lucia, wait!”_ yells Norman but she already has the plastic lid gripped in her fingers.

She rips it open and falls backwards, her tailbone cracking painfully on the cold concrete as she sees what’s inside. The stench rising from the open container has tears streaming down her face instantly and she covers her nose and mouth with one hand as she stares in horror at the eviscerated corpse and bloodied face of a black cat staring back at her, its jaws open in a rictus of pain and fear that tells her its end was a brutal one. She scoots backwards away from the box, scraping the palms of her hands on the rough step, until she feels Norman’s hands on her, hauling her up into his arms and turning her to face his chest. She clings to him, sobbing quietly, trying to focus on breathing in his scent to calm her and block the vile odor that’s coating the inside of her nose.

 _“Is it...?”_ she asks, unable to say the name, her body shaking against his.

 _“No,”_ he whispers emphatically against her hair but she can hear the catch in his voice that tells her he’s not sure.

 _“Okay,”_ says Sean, taking charge of the situation. _“Norman, take Lucia inside and call your cat-sitter or whoever it is that takes care of the beast while you’re away, I’m sure you’ll find that he’s fine. Jake, you get going. I’ll clean up this mess and Eris, my love, more coffee please, lots of it.”_

Everyone moves at his words, Lucia allowing Norman to lead her inside and back up to their room, sitting on the bed while he searches for his cellphone, cursing softly under his breath until he finds it under the bed. He sits next to Lucia, wrapping an arm around her neck to pull her close to him but she can see the telltale tremble in his fingers as he scrolls though his contacts and dials Mrs. H’s number. Their affable neighbor picks up on the second ring and Norman angles the phone between them so they can both hear, a redundant gesture given Lucia’s superior hearing but a sweet one nonetheless. After a minute of small talk where Lucia’s heart has started thudding painfully in her throat, Norman finally finds a break in the conversation and tells her he was just calling to see how EITD was doing.

_“Oh, he’s doing fine, honey. You know I swear he misses Beegle although he won’t admit it, the old grump. Do you want to talk to him? He’s right here, I can wake his fat butt up.”_

_“No, that’s fine,”_ Norman tells her with a laugh, squeezing the back of Lucia’s neck. _“I just wanted to check in. We’ll be home in a few days.”_

_“Sounds good, honey, give Lucia my love. You kids enjoy yourselves, you work too hard.”_

_“Thanks, we’ll try. Bye.”_

He disconnects the phone and tosses it on the bed, pulling Lucia into a tight hug and she can feel his relief, like hers, in every part of his body.

 _“He’s going to pay, Lucia, oh he’s going to fucking pay,”_ he breathes against the top of her head and she nods against him, squeezing him tight.

The kitchen door banging closed downstairs pulls them apart, Lucia wiping at the wetness on her cheeks but managing a smile when she sees the concern in Norman’s eyes.

 _“I’m fine,”_ she tells him, leaning forward to brush his lips with hers. _“It was just a shock is all but I’m good now. Let’s go see if Eris has finished that coffee.”_

They rejoin the others downstairs, Sean giving Norman a nod to let him know that he’s dealt with Lucia’s gift, and the four of them settle into the living room, Lucia feeling reminiscent of the time they spent together after her first Shift, allowing herself to recall that period now without worrying about how it will make her feel. They pass their time talking and napping, knowing that there’s nothing they can do until night falls again. The men try to initiate a rowdy game of poker at one point but it soon fizzles out. Lucia can see that Eris’ heart isn’t really in it and she can barely concentrate herself. Sean tries to give her pointers on how to handle herself should it come down to a fight, telling her to trust her instincts and let the wolf just do its thing. He tells her that most werewolves will take on a half-Shift in a fight situation rather than go full wolf as there’s more power in that form so she needs to be prepared for that because her body is going to behave in a whole new way than it has done in either of her other forms.

Jake follows through on his promise to keep in touch, Lucia’s phone buzzing every hour or so with news of yet another dead end. With so many unknown faces in town for the Maple Festival, nobody can really say if they’ve noticed anyone unusual hanging around town even when Jake spins them a tale about cash rewards for information. As the sky darkens outside and the anticipation in the room notches up a little, Lucia keeps looking to the door, willing Jake to hurry back so they can decide what to do. When her phone eventually buzzes again over an hour later, Sean curses loudly, telling her to get their errant detective back home stat. She picks up the phone and reads the text from Jake’s number, her fingers going numb as her brain digests the words on the screen and she silently hands the phone to Sean.

 _“What is it?”_ Eris asks, uncurling from the sofa and sitting up straight when she sees the look on Lucia’s face.

 _“We have your precious detective. You and your mate will come to me in one hour. Leave the traitor and his bitch behind,”_ reads Sean.

 _“Fuck!”_ spits out Eris, jumping from her seat and pacing nervously in front of the sofa. _“What do we do?”_

 _“What we were going to do all along,”_ says Sean, his voice hard and dangerous. _“We go kill this sonovabitch and move on with our lives.”_

 _“I’m going alone,”_ Norman states, standing up, his tone brooking no argument but having three voices shout him down anyway, Lucia’s being the most vocal.

 _“Over my dead body,”_ she hisses. _“We’re going together as instructed, I’m not doing anything to put Jake at risk and did you miss the part where he said ‘we’? That means he has at least one other person with him, probably more. You’re not going by yourself.”_

 _“For all we know, Jake is dead already or he will be the second we walk in the door,”_ Norman yells, making her flinch, _“and I’m not letting you anywhere near that place, do you understand? I swore I’d never let anything hurt you again and I’m going to make damn sure I keep that promise.”_

 _“Lucia’s going,”_ Sean butts in before she can respond, rising to his feet and standing face to face with Norman.

 _“No!”_ Norman snarls, face contorting to bring out the beast just a little, his eyes blazing furiously.

 _“Yes, she is. We all are,”_ Sean replies evenly. _“We’re going and we’re ending it tonight, one way or the other. We have strength in numbers and quite frankly, I think this Azrael cat is underestimating us. So we all go. No arguments.”_

Norman stands off against him for a long minute and then with a growl he throws his hands in the air in frustration and pulls the wolf back inside.

 _“You better have a fucking plan, brother,”_ he tells Sean.

 _“Don’t I always?”_ Sean replies with one of his best shit-eating grins that leaves Lucia both terrified and oddly comforted at the same time.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Just under an hour later, she and Norman approach the entrance to the Old Mill, the imposing structure even more ominous up close, its broken windows seeming to mock her in the darkness. The moon has barely risen, dark clouds scudding across its surface to steal its light but Lucia can see well enough to notice the tire tracks leading up to the large, sliding door at the back of the main building. The smaller door set into the body of the main door is ajar and they make their way cautiously inside, Lucia’s nerves jangling in anticipation of an ambush at any second. Parked just inside they pass a sleek, black SUV capable of holding at least six passengers, two of the doors open to show its messy interior strewn with fast food bags and a variety of backpacks and personal belongings. The inside of the building is just as rundown as the exterior, most of the milling equipment long gone or, if the piece couldn’t be moved in a cost-effective way, left there to rust. The place has an acrid smell of bird droppings mingled with the earthy tones that years of neglect and disuse have eaten into its very foundations. Above it all is the overriding smell of werewolf, Lucia’s nostrils flaring as she tries to distinguish how many different scents she’s picking up, her question answered as they walk around a hulking piece of machinery into a wide open space.

In front of them is a pack of six werewolves, five men and one woman, their bodies in their human form but their features just skirting the line between the two with fangs, ear points and unnatural eyes showing prominently on all of them. They’re forming a loose group around a prone figure on the filthy ground and, seeing that it’s Jake, Lucia moves to rush to his side but Norman clamps a lightning fast hand on her arm and restrains her. With a deep chuckle Azrael steps forward from the group, coming to stand over Jake’s inert body and Lucia takes a proper look at him, her encounter with him at the inn having happened so fast that she really didn’t take in his appearance at all. She finds it hard to believe that he and Gabriel were brothers, let alone twins. Whereas Gabriel had that easy going, boy-next-door charm about him with his footballer build and handsome features, Azrael looks like someone you’d actively cross the road to avoid. Smaller in stature than his brother, Lucia can see the power coiled in his lean frame, the baggy clothes he’s wearing a camouflage for the muscled body underneath. His rough-cut hair and scraggy beard give him an air of slacker indifference as does the hand-rolled cigarette dangling from his knuckles but the wolfen-blue of his eyes is intense and alert as he sizes up his prey and Lucia thinks she can see a hint of something else there too, something dangerous just waiting to be let loose.

 _“Don’t worry, your boy here is fine,”_ he tells them, aiming a kick at Jake’s exposed stomach and Lucia wriggles in Norman’s grip. _“He got a little fresh with two of my guys so we thought it best if he took a little nap. Amazing how much horse tranquilizer it takes to put one of us out really. But, rest assured, he is going to get what’s coming to him for the part he played in my brother’s murder.”_

 _“Murder?”_ spits Lucia, shaking off Norman’s hand and stepping forward. _“Is that what you think we did? Your brother was a deranged psychopath who kidnapped me and turned me into one of you against my will. Murder? We didn’t murder him, we put him down like the rabid Stray that he was and even that wasn’t enough punishment for what he took from me.”_

She can feel her face changing with the outpouring of her ire and her fingers lengthening into razor-sharp claws which she flexes at her sides.

 _“Took from you?”_ Azrael asks, flicking his cigarette aside and stepping over Jake’s body to get in her face. _“It looks like he gave you the ultimate gift, you ungrateful bitch. And how did you repay him? You let your half-breed boyfriend here rip him to shreds and your stinking cop buddy burn his body to ashes. What, you don’t think I can’t piece together what happened? That I didn’t know where my brother was? Who do you think sent him after you in the first place, you self-righteous whore? And don’t you think that I didn’t have a special connection to my brother, my twin, one that let me share his thoughts and how he felt the moment you stole his life from him.”_

Lucia steps back, aghast, as she takes in his words, the thought of sharing a loved one’s last moments like that incomprehensible to her.

 _“That’s right, bitch,”_ Azrael sneers, jabbing a finger in her direction. _“So don’t tell me about what I do and don’t know about my brother. Its filthy half-breeds like you that are destroying our species, diluting our bloodlines and living like the vermin we should be feeding off. God made us the superior race for a reason and its time we started living up to our potential. You’re a plague that needs to be erased from existence and I’m making it my job to take care of the trash like you.”_

 _“You sound almost as crazy as your father,”_ Norman says in a low voice, moving up to stand at Lucia’s side.

 _“What did you say?”_ Azrael screeches, turning his attention to Norman. _“What the fuck do you know about my daddy, half-breed?”_

_“I know that he killed your momma for giving birth to you and your abomination of a brother, ripped her jugular out while you two were still squirming on the floor, joined to her carcass by your umbilical cords. And I know that you two lunatics strung him from the rafters with his insides hanging out. Was that God’s work? Tell me, is that what he wanted for one of his pureblood children?”_

_“Enough!”_ roars Azrael and Lucia sees a couple of his pack take uneasy steps back in her peripheral vision. _“You couldn’t even begin to understand my life. Mr. Movie Star, Mr. Big Shot TV Guy with your hair stylists and your art shows and your red carpets. Let me show you what true faith is all about, shall I? Then maybe you’ll understand my convictions a little better._

Lucia, who had been edging slowly closer to Jake, stops in her tracks as Azrael swings his head back in her direction, his body growing as he initiates his Shift. Now half-man half-wolf, his muscles ripple across his chest and shoulders, his lower half taking his wolf form, his clothes falling from him in tatters and his face thickening as he bares his impressive fangs. Lucia shoots a glance at Norman but he shakes his head almost imperceptibly and she holds herself in check as Azrael’s towering form stomps past her and crouches next to Jake instead. For a second Azrael looks back over his shoulder, eyes locking on to Norman’s and then, with an almost casual movement, he grabs the front of Jake’s shirt in one hand and pulls him up from the floor. With his free hand he swipes his claws across the meat of Jake’s upper thighs, tearing through denim and flesh as if both were nothing more than tissue paper and then drops him back down to the floor with a sickening thud. Giving a blood-curdling yell, Jake sits up, the pain reviving him as the blood pours from his mangled legs and Lucia screams a protest in Azrael’s direction, letting the beast free from within her that’s been clamoring for independence since the second they stepped foot in the door. She sees Norman Shifting to her left, her own Shift pulling her body painfully into the half-wolf shape the others are taking on, her increased size and strength alien to her for a second but then filling her with a sense of enormous power as she balances her weight on her monstrous back paws, shredding the remnants of her clothing away with her claws.

Azrael has Jake’s head clasped in one hand, his claws digging deeply in the other man’s throat and Lucia can see the glazed look in Jake’s eyes from the drugs and the pain and she knows there’s nothing he can do to help himself. She hesitates for a second, eyes locking with Azrael’s, not wanting to risk Jake’s life on the chance that she can’t attack fast enough or strongly enough to save him. Azrael gives her a gloating snarl, reading her dilemma in her body language and she despises him even more.

Suddenly all hell breaks loose as the ceiling high above them appears to cave in, bringing down a shower of debris and broken roof tiles which fall like missiles to the floor causing everyone to scatter and masking the arrival of two very agile, very pissed-off werewolves in its center. Lucia tracks the blur of their movement, watching Sean drop into a crouch then step up to one of the cowering pack and snap his neck before he even knows someone is there. Eris launches herself at the she-wolf, snarling and snapping as the pair of them tumble out if Lucia’s line of sight. Whipping her head back towards Jake, she sees that Azrael has let him go, some of the debris having landed close enough to force him back. Before he can regain his leverage on the bleeding form before him she’s thrown herself between them, her only thought to protect her wounded pack member.

 _“Lucia!”_ she hears Norman shout above the noise filling the air and she sees his body hurtling towards Azrael, his powerful hindquarters propelling him forward as his hands reach out to slash at the other wolf’s chest.

Azrael catches Norman’s forearms at the last second and they struggle for dominance in a fury of flashing teeth and razor claws. Lucia is all too aware of the other wolves in the room, darting a glance around to see Eris still occupied with the female and Sean going down from a blow from the largest male in the room, who surprisingly doesn’t follow through but takes off instead, Shifting into his full wolf form on the run, closely followed by Sean a few seconds later. Lucia wants to scream after him, tell him that he’s left her with two other wolves still unaccounted for but Jake’s ragged breathing yanks at her attention instead and she drops into a crouch beside him, frightened by the amount of blood pooling next to him, the coppery tang of it filling the air and making her want to sneeze. She’s not sure how to help him in this form and she’s too wary of attack to change back and then it dawns on her that he needs to Shift, let his body take care of itself as best it can but he’s probably too drugged still and in too much pain to think straight. Before she can tell this to him however, one of the remaining werewolves clamps his hand on her shoulder and spins her up to face him.

 _“You’re mine, bitch,”_ he hisses, spraying a line of spittle from between his teeth.

 _“I’m getting so tired of being called that,”_ she mutters under her breath, thinking that she should probably be scared but instead her body is burning with rage from all that these people have put her through.

The clawed hand holding her shoulder tightens and she whimpers, lowering the blaze from her eyes to give him what she hopes is a fear-filled plea for mercy and to her shock, he buys it, relaxing his grip just a fraction. That’s all she needs to press her advantage, thrusting forward and up with the clawed tips of her right hand, feeling his flesh tear beneath her fingertips as she rips into his abdomen. As he gives a grunt of surprise and pain, she uses her momentum to wrap her hand around his throat and use her body weight to topple him backwards, following him down as he crashes to the floor. She’s reaching back her hand to swipe at his jugular, feeling the blood from his torso matting the fur on her stomach, when something hits her hard in the side and she’s knocked across the floor, skittering to a breathless halt a few feet away. Shaking her head, she pushes back up catching sight of Norman and Azrael still trading vicious blows, neither of them giving an inch, before she turns her head to see what or who hit her.

The last remaining werewolf is bent over his pack member, checking his wounds. He’s smaller than the others, younger, Lucia guesses and she thinks briefly about Cody, wondering what makes these kids want to follow the likes of Gabriel and his brother. Satisfied his pack brother isn’t mortally wounded, the younger one looks in her direction, affording her a savage snarl. Lucia shuts down the part of her brain that wants to reach out to this kid, to try and see if she can pull him back before it’s too late and instead lets her wolf have free reign, knowing that none of this pack can be allowed to leave alive or there’ll always be another one behind them looking for revenge. She steadies her breathing as Sean taught her, letting him come to her, knowing he’s not going to be fooled by her scared damsel routine. She’s waiting for him to make the first move and when he does, grabbing at her hair to expose her throat to him, she uses it to her advantage as she’s seen Norman and Sean do a hundred times in their sparring sessions. As he lowers his head to sink his fangs into the vulnerable flesh of her neck she shoots the heel of her hand up into his face, breaking his misshapen nose and making him recoil away from her, staggering on his back paws for a moment.

With a howl, Lucia leaps at him wrapping her body around his to bring him down, tearing and biting at any piece of him she can get her jaws on, her hands furiously fighting to keep his from getting a hold on her. She closes her eyes as her vision blurs, letting her instincts do the work, the beast within her yowling at the taste of blood in her mouth, craving more, her fangs ripping at the flesh beneath her until she feels the hands fighting against her own go limp, dropping to the floor as she releases them. Opening her eyes she finds herself staring into the lifeless eyes of the beast below her, his face, neck and shoulders little more than raw meat, his heart pumping out the last of his life’s blood before giving up completely. Lucia pushes off of him, slipping a little in his cooling blood and leans over to wretch onto the floor, an unearthly stream of blood and flesh leaving her stomach in a rush that makes her lightheaded. She shakes her head to both revive herself and clear the blood that’s soaked her face from her eyes.

A repeated cracking sound to her right filters through the noise of her own blood pounding in her ears and she draws in a deep breath before raising her head to look, immediately wishing she hadn’t as she sees Eris straddling the chest of her first attacker and smashing his head into the concrete, a feral grin splitting her features. Lucia looks away before the final blow, eyes searching for Norman and Azrael and finding them almost to the door, the dull light coming in shining off of Norman’s body which is glistening wetly with blood that she doesn’t know is his or not.

 _“Eris,”_ she yells, picking herself up off of the floor and moving over to Jake, who is laying where she left him, thankfully having become lucid enough to Shift at least partially.

 _“My badass wolf chicks,”_ he greets them cheerfully as they arrive at his side but Lucia can see how much the effort to speak has cost him, the pain evident in his eyes although the wounds on his thighs have stopped bleeding at least.

A furious howl from the doorway grabs her attention and all three of them look in that direction to see Azrael bolting out into the night with a slightly limping Norman in hot pursuit. Lucia looks to Eris, fear pumping in her veins.

 _“Go,”_ Eris tells her, _“I’ll stay here and take care of Jake.”_

 _“I didn’t think you cared,”_ he replies sarcastically but Lucia can her the truth buried beneath his flippant attitude.

 _“Well, you’re still my family,”_ Eris informs him gently, _“even if you are a gigantic pain in my ass. Now Shift all the way, you jackass and let your body take care of you.”_

Satisfied that Jake’s not in any immediate danger, Lucia takes off for the exit letting her body relax out of the more powerful humanoid wolf form and down into her regular wolf-self wanting speed rather than strength right now. Dropping her muzzle to the ground outside, she follows Norman’s scent away from the mill, heading towards the falls. The sound of fighting in the still night causes her ears to prick forward and she looks up, trying to pinpoint where it’s coming from, her heart stopping in her chest as she catches sight of Norman and Azrael on the bridge above the falls. Their bodies are tangled together, each struggling for power until, with a victorious howl, she sees Norman get his arms under Azrael’s hips and flip him up and over the low rail of the old-fashioned bridge but Azrael twists his body, clamping his jaws over Norman’s forearm and uses his momentum to push off against the side of the bridge, plummeting them both into the churning waters eighty feet below.

Lucia’s heart thuds painfully back into action, every fiber of her being silently screaming Norman’s name over and over as she races along the river bank, desperately searching for any trace of them. Halfway between the base of the falls and her position she suddenly sees Norman’s head break the surface and she can hear him sucking in great lungfuls of air. Her relief is short-lived though as she sees Azrael surface behind him, the glow of his eyes luminescent in the dark and she screams Norman’s name again in her mind as she lets loose with a frenzied volley of barks. He turns but it’s too late, Azrael taking him back below the surface with one clawed hand wrapped around Norman’s throat from behind. Lucia wades into the icy water, frantically pacing back and forth but she can’t see any sign of them.

She’s just about to Shift into human form, planning on swimming out and diving until she finds him, when the water erupts a few feet in front of her and Norman bursts forth. He emerges slowly, water and dark blood streaming from his pale skin and Lucia can see that he has at least a dozen wounds on his torso alone. She Shifts into her human form, not caring in the slightest about her lack of clothing, just needing to be able to speak to him. As he comes further into the shallows she realizes with a start that he’s dragging Azrael’s limp body behind him, the werewolf’s neck bent at an unnatural angle, his head flopping uselessly against his shoulder. With a roar, Norman deposits the corpse into the shallow water and stands, sides heaving and head bent as she races to meet him, throwing herself into his arms which he closes around her not leaving even a sliver of space between them.

 


	25. Chapter 25

_“Are you okay?”_ Norman asks, his hands skimming lightly over all the parts of her he can reach without relinquishing his hold on her.

 _“I think so,”_ Lucia answers him, holding his dripping body just as tight. _“I don’t know. I don’t care. All I know is that you’re here and you’re okay.”_

He loosens his hold just a little, sliding his hands up to capture her face so that he can look into her eyes, ignoring the blood coating her skin because he knows it isn’t hers.

 _“I heard you,”_ he whispers, leaning his forehead to hers. _“Well not heard exactly but I could feel you calling my name while I was under the water. It was like something was tugging at me, giving me the strength to finish him. I knew I had to come back to you, knew you’d kick my ass to Hell and back if I didn’t.”_

 _“Damn right I would,”_ she tells him with a playful slap to his rear.

 _“Oww,”_ he winces, his body starting to feel the aches and pains of his wounds now that the adrenaline high is starting to wear off.

 _“Oh God, I’m sorry,”_ she says, her eyes going wide.

 _“Don’t sweat it,”_ he replies, pulling her tight again. _“I’m just messing with you.”_

_“Jerk!”_

_“Baby, can I tell you something?”_ he asks, adopting a serious tone.

_“Anything, you know that.”_

_“You’re a mess,”_ he tells her, rubbing some of the crusted blood from her chin, _“and you smell like hell!”_

 _“Fuck you!”_ she retorts, wriggling to get away from him but he keeps her held close, elated just to be holding her in his arms again, safe and sound.

 _“Well isn’t this cute?”_ comes a new voice from behind them and Norman turns to see Sean coming along the river’s edge towards them. _“I thought you two had learned your lesson about copulating in public places but I guess not.”_

Norman shields Lucia with his body to protect what’s left of her modesty and grins broadly at the sight of Sean, clad in a pair of oversized black pants that he’s obviously stolen from somewhere nearby, face caked in blood from a vicious looking head laceration. He’s carrying the broken body of the werewolf he’d chased out of the building across his shoulders like it was hunting season and he’d just bagged himself a prime buck.

 _“Took time to do a little shopping there while the rest of us were cleaning up your mess, did you?”_ Norman asks, indicating the stolen pants.

_“Yeah, I had to make a little detour through town until I found a chump who’d left his car unlocked. Didn’t want to scare anyone with the Flanaconda!”_

_“You were worried about someone seeing your peanut dick but not about the 400lb wolf carcass you’re carrying around like a side of beef? Dude, your priorities are severely fucked up.”_

_“What, you don’t think I could have talked my way out of this?_ Sean asks, hefting the dead body’s weight higher on his shoulders, the veins in his arms standing out in stark relief.

Norman shakes his head in resignation and feels Lucia stirring behind him, looking out around his arm at Sean.

 _“You left us,”_ she throws at him in an accusing tone.

 _“Knew you could handle it, darlin’,”_ he answers with a grin. _“Looks like you did just fine. Everyone’s still in one piece.”_

 _“More or less,”_ Lucia grumbles. _“Jake’s hurt pretty bad.”_

_“Then why don’t you two stop with the skinny-dipping, grab that stinking hunk of dog meat and we’ll go take care of our boy?”_

Without waiting for an answer, in typical Sean fashion, he sets off in the direction of the mill and Norman turns back to Lucia.

 _“Go ahead,”_ she tells him, laying a warm hand on his chest. _“I’ll be right behind you, I just want to wash my face.”_

 _“I can wait,”_ he says, reluctant to let her out of his sight for even a second.

_“No, go, I’ll be fine, I promise. God forbid somebody does happen to wander out here in the middle of the night. I don’t think even Sean could charm his way out of this mess.”_

_“Okay, if you’re sure,”_ he says, stroking a hand down her upper arm before Shifting into his half-wolf state and bending to scoop up Azrael’s body in his arms.

He heads into the mill, throwing one last glance back at Lucia who is scooping up great handfuls of water to splash against her grimy face. The sight that greets him inside is so reminiscent of a Walking Dead set that he half expects to see Nicotero waving at him from the sidelines as he throws more fake blood onto the floor. In the center of the space beneath the hole in the roof is a pile of broken, mangled corpses, each one generously caked in their own blood. Breathing shallowly through his mouth, Norman steps forward to add Azrael’s body to the heap, feeling no remorse for the death they’ve wrought. He knows without any doubt that, given the opportunity any one of Azrael’s pack would have killed them in a heartbeat, had done their best to in fact and without Sean’s well-timed distraction things may not have gone so well in their favor. He’s standing there lost in thought, wondering of this will be the end of it now or if he’s going to be looking over his shoulder for the next true believer to come his way, when he feels a small hand on his arm and turns to see Eris looking up at him. Her usually impeccable appearance is lost, there’s blood streaking her face and hair and a nasty looking bruise is coloring her jawline but her eyes are vivid in her face, full of life and she gives him a small smile as she holds out a pair of jeans to him and he realizes she’s dressed too.

 _“Found the pack’s belongings in the SUV,”_ she tells him in answer to his unasked question. _“It’s not exactly haute couture and it stinks to high heaven but it’ll do for now.”_

He takes the jeans, turning away to Shift back into his human body and pull them on, catching sight of Lucia in full wolf form slinking warily into the mill.

 _“How’s Jake doing?”_ he asks Eris as Lucia comes to lean against his side and he rests a hand on her back, digging his fingers deep into her luxurious coat.

 _“He’ll live,”_ Eris answers without a trace of her usual rancor at the mention of his name. _“We need to get him home and clean those wounds properly. He’s just lucky Azrael missed his arteries, it was pretty damned close.”_

Sean joins them, his blood-streaked hair giving him a crazed look, and rests a hand on the back of Eris’ neck.

_“Why don’t you and Lucia take the SUV back to the house with Jake, we’ll worry about getting rid of that later. Reedenstein and I will clean up here.”_

_“Clean up how?”_ Eris asks poking a bare toe at one of the bodies in front of her.

 _“Woman,”_ he tells her, gently squeezing her neck, _“don’t I always have a plan?”_

She rolls her eyes at him but beckons to Lucia to follow her anyway.

 _“C’mon Lassie, let’s go find you something purdy to wear,”_ she says and Norman reluctantly lets Lucia’s fur slip from his fingertips as she trots after Eris.

 _“How exactly are we going to clean this up?_ Norman asks, giving Sean a dubious look. _“I think someone’s going to notice if we burn it to the ground.”_

 _“Actually there’s a furnace room out back,”_ Sean informs him. _“I spotted it when we were climbing the roof earlier, one of those big, industrial-type things, looks like something Freddy Krueger would use. I checked it out just now and there’s still a shit-ton of coal back there too. I’m thinking we can fire it up and have us a nice funeral pyre.”_

 _“Do you have any idea how to start one of those things? Or how to light a coal fire?”_ Norman inquires skeptically.

 _“No but I’m sure Google does,”_ Sean replies defensively.

_“And other, less flammable solutions?”_

_“You tell me, brother,”_ answers Sean with a shrug that says, ‘I gave you my best idea, see if you can come up with a better one dipshit.’

_“We could weight them down, toss ’em in the river.”_

_“Nah, sooner or later some poor schmuck will find one of them on the end of his fishing line.”_

Norman watches as the SUV backs out of the door, Lucia behind the wheel back in her human form and Eris rolling the door back into place once she’s safely outside, leaving him and Sean alone in the semi-darkness with the pile of bodies.

 _“How about burying them?”_ he suggests.

 _“You feel like digging six graves in the rock hard earth somewhere up in the mountains, be my guest,”_ Sean scoffs, _“but you better make them deep, boy, or come summer you’ll run the risk of hunters stumbling over the remains.”_

 _“Wood chipper?”_ Norman throws at him in exasperation wondering why this couldn’t be like the movies where some lucky chain of events would lay a solution right at their door.

 _“Sure. And will you be cleaning it when we’re done? Look it’s getting too late to do anything about it tonight anyway. Let’s just get them out of sight for now and we’ll go home and think about it. My head is killing me,”_ he adds, gingerly touching the gash on his head and then hissing from the pain.

 _“Okay,”_ agrees Norman, bending down to grab Azrael and heft him over his shoulder, trying to distance himself from the stench that’s rolling off of the dead body.

He and Sean spend the next thirty minutes carrying the bodies one by one into the far corner of the mill and dumping them behind the back of a wall of rusted machinery. There’s nothing they can do about the blood-splattered floor so they make sure that they firmly secure the front door on the way out hoping any local dogs or wildlife will be too repulsed by the scent of wolf to disturb the bodies. They’ve been coming to the area for long enough to know that pretty much all of the locals steer clear of the building anyway, even the horny teenagers looking for a make-out spot, knowing that it’s a death trap just waiting to come down around their ears.

By the time they get back to the house, Norman’s body is starting to feel the strain, he’s aching from a plethora of bruises and scrapes, a result of his battle with Azrael and his consequent plunge into the falls. The house is a blaze of lights as they approach and Beegle rushes out to greet them the second they open the back door and step inside. Norman absently ruffles the small dog’s ears, pushing his nose aside as he goes crazy trying to inhale the myriad of scents his master has brought with him. They find the others in the living room, Jake propped up on the sofa, dressed in clean clothes and with a bottle of whiskey resting loosely against his side. His long, dark hair is pushed back from his face and he looks pale and washed out but Norman is happy to see that his eyes look bright and clear when he looks up as they enter the room.

 _“You better not have drunk all of that,”_ grumbles Sean as he collapses on the floor by the sofa.

 _“Hey, I’ve lost a lot of blood tonight, I think I deserve a drink or ten,”_ protests Jake but he hands Sean the bottle anyway.

Norman sits on the floor next to Lucia who is propped up against the other sofa and pulls her onto his lap, not caring about the jabs of pain that accompany the move, just needing to hold her as close as possible. Eris comes through from the kitchen, handing Jake a plate with a hefty looking sandwich on it, and Norman isn’t surprised in the slightest to see that she’s already showered as she takes a seat in the large armchair opposite them and tucks her legs primly up under her, straightening her silk robe down over her knees.

 _“What did you do with the bodies?”_ she asks Sean, her tone as casual as if she’d asked him if he remembered to pick up milk on the way home.

 _“Nothing yet. Got them out of sight for now. There seems to be some concerns from certain people,”_ he says, throwing Norman a disparaging glance but Norman’s too tired and too wrapped up in holding Lucia to respond, _“that my disposal plan won’t work.”_

 _“What plan?”_ Lucia asks, shifting on Norman’s lap and he can hear the tiredness slurring her words too.

_“There’s an old furnace at the back of the mill, I figured we could get it going and get rid of the remains that way.”_

_“And I think that, even if you could get that geriatric thing to light after all these years, you’re more likely to burn the place down before you get the first body in and that’s attention we just don’t need.”_

_“Well, why don’t you tell them about your idea to use a wood chipper then?”_ says Sean sarcastically, waving the whiskey bottle in Norman’s direction.

 _“We could bury them,”_ Lucia adds before Norman can reply to Sean, _“up in the woods, off the track as far as we can.”_

 _“ We aren’t doing anything,” _Sean answers. _There’s no need for you and Eris to be involved in this.”_

 _“So, we can rip them to shreds but we’re too fragile to clean up after ourselves, is that what you’re saying?”_ asks Eris icily.

 _“Pretty much, yeah,”_ replies Sean with a smirk but everyone in the room knows, including Eris, that what he really means is that if he and Norman can prevent the women they cherish from having to go through something as awful as disposing of bodies then they’re going to do it because they love them and not because they don’t think they’re capable of doing it themselves.

_“And suddenly I’m the ‘little woman’ again. Fine. You two go off with your chauvinistic shovels and you dig your chauvinistic graves and I’ll keep my far easier solution to myself because my female opinion doesn’t count.”_

Norman can feel Lucia give a chuffing laugh against his chest where she’s leaning on him and he gives a smile of his own, some of the night’s tension ebbing away with the familiar back and forth of his best friends.

 _“Okay then, my goddess, enlighten me,”_ demands Sean spreading his arms wide in Eris’ direction.

 _“Widow’s Peak,”_ she replies smugly and Sean drops his arms back down.

 _“And this,”_ he says, wagging a finger in Eris’ direction with a massive smile brightening his battered face, _“is why she’s the brains and the beauty in our relationship.”_

 _“What’s Widow’s Peak?”_ Lucia asks looking from one of them to the other in confusion.

 _“It’s a few towns over,”_ Norman tells her, _“up in the mountains. There’s a natural cleft in the rock, it’s about six feet wide, I guess and about a hundred feet long but nobody knows how deep it goes. You can only see so far down even in the brightest daylight and anyone that’s ever been foolhardy enough to try climbing down has had their rope run out long before they get anywhere near the bottom. It gained the reputation over the years as a prime suicide location and unsuspecting hikers would wander over the edge by accident, trying to take the perfect photograph of the view from up there, which is how it earned its nickname._

_We’ve taken a few runs up there in the past when we’ve felt like really pushing ourselves. There’s not any real kind of barrier around it, just a wooden railing to mark its position. The town still wants the tourists to be able to peer over, they tout it as a ‘natural wonder’, the hole to the center of the earth, you know, all that small town hokum to draw the people in. It’s perfect. We can practically drive right up to it, there’s a lookout point just below it. Well played, Discordia, well played.”_

Eris nods her head smugly in his direction and then gets up, reaching out a hand to pull Sean up from the floor.

 _“Come on,”_ she says, leading him towards the hallway, _“let’s go give you a bath and see if that bump on the head killed any more of your brain cells because heaven knows, you can’t afford to lose any more.”_

It’s a sign of how weary Sean is, Norman thinks, that he doesn’t even give her a smartass comeback, just follows her meekly out and up the stairs to let her take care of him.

 _“Oh God, a shower sounds like heaven right about now,”_ Lucia says, climbing carefully up from his lap.

He gets up after her, throwing a glance at Jake only to see that his friend is already sleeping deeply, having drifted off somewhere in the middle of their conversation.

The shower really is too small for the pair of them but somehow they make it work, taking turns under the spray, washing each other carefully until every trace of blood and grime is gone and then stepping out to examine each other’s wounds. Norman is disconcerted to find a nasty laceration on Lucia’s abdomen that she claims she never even felt until he pointed it out to her. With their wounds tended to, they climb wearily into bed, Lucia pressed tightly to his side, wrapped in one of his t-shirts, her hand finding his in the dark and holding it to her.

 _“Are you okay?”_ he whispers softly against her sweet-smelling hair, inhaling the fresh scent of her.

 _“Yes. No. Undecided,”_ she tells him with a quiet laugh. _“The whole thing just seems surreal now, somehow. My pre-wolf brain can’t quite comprehend that we were just sitting there joking about ways to dispose of a body and actually being serious about it. We ended six lives tonight – I did things I would never have dreamed I was capable of in my life and yet it all seemed so… so…”_

 _“Natural?”_ Norman supplies. _“I think that’s the hardest part, our brains are hard-wired to be decent, moral people but if someone or something threatens the wolf or the pack then the human way of thinking is gone in an instant. I know you, Lucia, I know what a good person you are but I also know that if you hadn’t done what you did tonight, then Jake or Eris or any of us could have died. I know it’s easy to say that human rules don’t apply but it’s true. They came here with the sole intent of killing us and for what? Azrael was the only one with any real motivation but the others? They were going to finish us because of some ridiculous notion that only purebloods should be allowed to have our gift. Trust me, baby, if they’d gotten the upper hand then they wouldn’t have stopped until every last one of us was dead.”_

 _“Thank God for Sean and his crazy plans, huh?”_ she says quietly and he laughs, stroking her back.

_“Yeah, always got to make a dramatic entrance, that one.”_

_“So, how do you cope with knowing you’ve taken a life, no matter how justified? The one I killed was just a kid really, couldn’t have been more than twenty.”_

_“When Gabe took you, that was the first time I’d killed. Sean and I had been in fights before, there were always purebloods looking to prove a point but when you were in danger, it was different. All that mattered was keeping you safe at any cost and, once it was over, all I had to do was look at you and any guilt or remorse that might have been creeping over me was gone in an instant. You helped keep your family safe tonight and that’s what you have to focus on if you start to feel overwhelmed.”_

_“I can do that,”_ she tells him and she tilts her head back from his chest, angling up to meet his lips in a gentle kiss.

Norman slides a hand up to cup her cheek, his thumb tucked under her chin as he lets himself get lost in the warmth of her lips and the depth of his love for her.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The next day finds everyone sleeping late, Norman getting up just briefly to let out a whimpering Beegle and check on Jake, who is snoring loudly just as they left him the night before. He crawls back into bed and wraps around Lucia’s sleeping form, knowing the best thing for their bodies right now is to rest. The comforting silence of the house coupled with the warmth of the body pressed against him soon pulls him back to sleep for a few more hours until he hears the others stirring and Lucia teases his eyes open with a firm kiss to his lips. Everyone congregates in the living room for dinner to keep Jake company, Lucia threatening to break his kneecaps if she sees him get up for anything other than bathroom visits. The atmosphere is one of family and Norman finds himself relaxing even with the thought of what they still have to do that night weighing on his mind. Around 1:00am Sean gives him a nod and he kisses Lucia deeply before they head out, taking the SUV and driving the short distance back to the Old Mill.

Norman breathes a sigh of relief to see that everything is just as they left it the night before, the sharp smell of blood still strong to his sensitive nose. They begin the gruesome task of loading the bodies into the car, lowering the backseats, each of them having reverted to their human form after their death. At Jake’s suggestion, they search the car, finding a cell phone that belonged to one of the pack and, before they throw each body in the back, they take a picture with the phone’s camera making sure to include whatever wounds are visible. When he has all six shots, Sean emails them to Jake, confirming he has them before he throws a couple of old blankets from the back seat over the line of corpses laying in the back. Not that they expect to run into anybody at this time of night but Norman’s still grateful for the tinted windows making it almost impossible to see inside the vehicle.

They make the drive to Widow’s Peak in a companionable silence, no topic of conversation seeming appropriate at this point. There’s a moment of panic when they pull into the overlook’s parking lot to find another car sitting there but a quick check shows them it’s empty, a sign on the dash proclaiming it as abandoned and due to be towed. Norman wonders if its owner took the same final trip that the dead weight on his shoulder is about to take. The dark slit in the earth sends a shiver down his spine as he climbs over the low railing in the moonlight and approaches the edge as close as he dares. Sean joins him and together they swing the body up and out over the chasm, watching it appear to pause for a second in mid-air before being swallowed by the darkness. The fact that it makes no sound on its way down just adds to the eerie feeling creeping up his spine as he strains his ears to hear anything from its fall. He looks at Sean who just shrugs and then, one by one they pitch the others into the chasm followed by any personal belongings they found in the car.

Satisfied with their clean-up, they stand at the edge after the last item has been tossed, both alone in their thoughts but feeling the other’s presence at the back of their minds, until Sean shakes himself and clamps a hand on Norman’s shoulder, resting it there for a moment before turning him away from what they’ve done and heading them back to the car. They drive back with all the windows down, the night air rushing in to invigorate him, each mile that they drive lightening his heart as it brings him closer to Lucia. He’s just wishing he’d thought to bring his ciggies with him when Sean’s voice cuts through the silence in the car, his words startling Norman.

_“I know that Jake’s in love with Eris.”_

_“Wha-“_

_“Don’t deny it, I know that you know too.”_

_“I –uh,”_ Norman starts feebly but Sean talks over him.

_“I was there that night, the party at our place. I’d gone looking for Eris, thinking maybe we could sneak a little alone time before anyone noticed we were gone and I heard Jake talking to her in the utility room. I could hear that he was drunk and upset about something and I don’t know why but instead of going in to see what was wrong, a little voice told me to stand my ground and just let it play out. So I slipped into the pantry next door and pushed the door closed enough to keep me out of sight but still let me hear what was going on.”_

_“You heard and you didn’t do anything? All this time.”_

_“Oh, I was close, brother, trust me. When he kissed her it was like a red mist descended on me and I was within a hair’s breadth of ending him but then you came along with your righteous chivalry and your balls of steel and you took care of it so that I didn’t have to.”_

_“I thought you would have killed him for sure.”_

_“I might have, if I’d gone in there, I can’t say for certain.”_

_“But you’ve never said anything.”_

_“What good would it do except to add to everybody’s misery? Jake is my brother, he’s my oldest friend and I owe him in ways you’ll never know. I get that it’s not his fault, he can’t help the way he feels but if you hadn’t taken him that night and he hadn’t moved away, I’m not sure what would have happened. It wasn’t fair of him to put it on her either but I can’t say that if I was in his situation, I wouldn’t have done the same thing. But I hate to see her miserable every time he’s around no matter how much they keep up their little faux dislike of each other.”_

_“Man, I’m sorry.”_

_“For what? Protecting my mate when she was in a bad situation? For helping keep a friend from killing himself? You have nothing to be sorry for. I just wanted you to know I appreciate what you did for her back then and for Jake.”_

_“Why now?”_ Norman asks, curious as to what brought on this sudden need to share.

_“I don’t know, seeing them together I guess. I think this is the longest they’ve spent in each other’s company since Jake moved to New York. I know it must be hard for her and I wondered if she’d talked to you about it.”_

_“Eris talk to me about her feelings?”_ Norman says with a wry laugh and sees a smile on Sean’s face. _“Actually, she did talk about it, the other day with Lucia, she told her everything and I think she felt relieved to have someone other than me to share it with.”_

 _“That’s good,”_ Sean says, nodding his head. _“I’m glad she has Lucia to confide in.”_

_“They’re certainly becoming as thick as thieves, those two. I’m starting to think we should be worried.”_

_“Worried,”_ Sean scoffs. _“I think we should be fucking terrified. Those two are a force to be reckoned with, brother, and you and I are in over our heads. We are way out of our league and they’re never going to let us forget it.”_

 _“Amen,”_ agrees Norman, feeling some of Sean’s lightness returning to him.

_“Now what do you say, you stop driving like my grandma and get us home to our lovely wenches, huh?”_

Norman flips him the bird with his free hand but pushes his foot a little harder on the accelerator all the same, putting the past behind them as he carries them back to the women they love.


	26. The End

 Over the next couple of days everyone stays close to home, resting and recuperating after what happened, the only exception being the quick trip Sean makes, first to the Old Mill to make sure that any trace of its occupants has been erased and then up to Widow’s Peak once more to reassure himself in the daylight that the bodies are truly gone. Jake uses the pictures that Sean took to send a message to out to his contacts in some of the other packs, letting them serve as a warning to any other wolves that might think about coming after them for retribution. All they can do is stay alert and hope that this is the end of it.

Jake’s legs heal fast under Eris’ watchful eye and, although Norman can see that it still pains them to be around each other, some of the fire between them seems to have burnt out somewhat. He wishes the situation could be different for all of them and he knows that Lucia wants to make it right somehow for them but there really isn’t anything that can be done except be there for their friends and give them support however they need it. He glances over at Jake, the two of them sprawled on the sofas while the other three are arguing in the kitchen about the best way to make meatballs.

_“You doing okay, buddy?”_

_“Yes, mom,”_ replies Jake with a roll of his eyes.

_“It’s a shame Azrael didn’t decide to take your tongue out while he was carving you a new pair of legs. Would’ve made my life a damn sight more peaceful.”_

_“Yeah but a hell of a lot less interesting,”_ smirks Jake. _“Oh and by the way…”_

He reaches down and grabs one of the cushions from the sofa, pitching it at Norman’s head before he can make a move to stop it and it hits him hard.

 _“What was that for?”_ Norman asks, rubbing his ear.

 _“For telling Lucia about…”_ Jake angles his head toward the kitchen where they can hear Eris overriding the other two loudly with her culinary expertise.

 _“What makes you think I told her?”_ whispers Norman.

_“Because she’s been making sad eyes at me ever since I got here and she hasn’t teased me about getting a haircut once. Plus every time Eris and I are in a room together she’s watching us like a hawk.”_

_“Well, for your information, I didn’t tell her anything.”_

_“Eris?”_ he hisses, looking genuinely surprised.

 _“Yeah,”_ Norman nods, _“although I think it was more to shut Lucia up than to share.”_

Jake goes quiet, obviously turning over this new piece of information and Lucia joins them from the kitchen, shoving Norman into an upright position so that she can share the sofa with him but allowing him to lay back down with his head in her lap.

 _“I can’t deal with the Philistines in the kitchen anymore,”_ she says loudly. _“Trying to tell me how to make meatballs. Pfft. So what are we talking about in here?”_

 _“You,”_ Jake tells her.

_“Oh good, my favorite topic of conversation. What did I do now?”_

_“Nothing, babe, we were just saying how much we admire your persistence when you want something and your inquisitiveness.”_

_“Huh? Ohh...”_ she says, looking from one to the other of them until realization dawns. _“I’m sorry, J, I didn’t mean to pry.”_

 _“Its fine,”_ he tells her, keeping his voice pitched low against the noise coming from the kitchen. _“Just please stop looking at me like I’m going to spontaneously combust at any minute, can you just do that for me?”_

Lucia nods her agreement and Jake gives her one of his best reassuring smiles but Norman is pretty sure the conversation is far from over between the two of them, it’s just on a hiatus until Lucia can get him alone. They change the subject to more mundane topics, Norman letting Lucia lull him into an almost-trance by stroking her fingers slowly and gently through his hair, until dinner is ready and they all gather at the table to eat. With it being the last night before Sean and Eris are due to head back to California, the five of them take a final run together, taking it easy as their bruised bones Shift into their wolf forms and letting Beegle tag along with them as they explore the woods together. Jake doesn’t push himself too much but he goes just a short distance with them before taking Beegle and heading back to the house so the others can really stretch themselves for the last time.

The next morning, with promises to get together soon and Eris insisting that they do something a little more fun and a lot less harsh on her nails next time, everyone goes their separate ways; Sean and Eris driving their rental car back to the airport and Jake taking the pack’s SUV back to the city, saying he knows just the place to make it disappear, no questions asked. Lucia suggests to Norman that they stay one more night, enjoy the house while its quiet but he can see the circles under her eyes and he knows she’s been sleeping badly since the night at the mill. He tells her that he’d rather get home, back to their own bed and how he misses EITD which is all true but he also secretly hopes that being back in their own place will help to relax her and put an end to any bad dreams that are keeping her awake in the early hours. She doesn’t argue with him so, after closing up the house until their next visit, they load their bags back into the truck and leave Virginia behind them, arriving home in New York in the early evening. Stopping to pick up EITD on their way up who allows himself to be grudgingly held by Lucia for a full minute before clamoring to be in Norman’s arms, they open the apartment and drop their bags to the floor. With a weary sigh, Norman flops onto the sofa, EITD climbing around his neck like a scarf and Lucia curls up next to him to lay with her head in his lap. Norman slouches down, stretching his legs out onto the ottoman in front of him, softly stroking his fingers through Lucia’s hair until he can’t tell whether she’s purring or EITD behind him and he smiles to himself, feeling the contentment that only comes with being back in your own home after time away.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

 The next few days pass relatively slowly, the events of Virginia being put behind them and Norman is relieved to see that Lucia’s sleep returns to normal once they’re home. They slip back into the routine of their lives, Lucia getting back to work on her commissions and Norman catching up on the meetings he postponed for their unscheduled trip. On their third night back, he comes home late after seeing some friends in the Village and unlocks the apartment door to be met with the sound of raucous laughter coming from the living room and Jake’s scent strong in the air. He throws down his keys on the hall table and shrugs out of his jacket, patting Beegle’s head as he passes into the living room to find Lucia and Jake sprawled on the sofa, an array of empty wine bottles and beer cans on the floor around their feet and a bottle of JD open on the end table. They both cheer as he enters the room and Lucia gets unsteadily to her feet, wrapping around him to greet him with a whiskey-fueled kiss, open-mouthed with her hot tongue greedily seeking his out until Jake throws an empty beer can at them and they break apart.

 _“Jesus, can you two at least keep it in your pants until I’m gone?”_ Jake slurs, frowning as he waves a dismissive hand in their direction and Lucia dissolves into a fit of giggles, pushing Norman down onto the sofa and climbing onto his lap.

 _“Seems like I missed happy hour,”_ Norman says dryly, trying to get Lucia to sit still because the way she’s wriggling on his lap is making it difficult for him to concentrate. _“I didn’t know you were coming over.”_

 _“Neither did I,”_ replies Jake, his concentration focused on carefully pouring another shot of JD into his glass which Norman deftly plucks from his fingers when he’s done.

_“Hey!”_

_“I think you’ve had enough, buddy. How about I take care of this one for you?”_

_“Whatever,”_ says Jake, slumping back on the sofa.

 _“So, what have you two been up to?”_ Norman asks, downing the shot in one fiery gulp and licking his lips.

 _“Jake’s been introducing me to some of your earlier work that I hadn’t seen yet,”_ Lucia giggles and then gives a little hiccupping sound. _“You were sooo young! And sooo pretty and oh my God, you were so blond.”_

She lifts her hand to run it through his hair, giving a little tug on the ends and he rolls his eyes at Jake over her shoulder.

 _“Thanks, man,”_ he tells him.

_“What? It’s not like it was a secret or anything. We were just talking and the subject of your dubious acting choices early in your career just happened to come up and I thought your mate should get a little Reedus education, a Reeducation if you will.”_

_“Such a cute little babyface,”_ Lucia sighs, still playing with his hair.

 _“Okay, that’s it,”_ he tells them, trapping her hands in his and holding her still. _“I’m cutting you off, the bar is closed. You, young lady are going to bed to sleep this off. Jake, are you staying?”_

 _“Nope,”_ mumbles Jake, trying to leverage himself off the sofa and finally making it up after three attempts. _“I know when I’m not wanted besides you two only have one more night of freedom until the kid gets home, right? I’m pretty sure I know what you’re going to be doing for the next twenty-four hours.”_

He rocks his hips back and forth suggestively sending Lucia into another fit of giggles so Norman pushes her off of his lap onto the sofa and gets up to grab Jake by the elbow and steer him to the door.

 _“G’night Lucy,”_ Jake yells over his shoulder as Norman hauls him away. _“Thanks for having me.”_

 _“Night J. Remember what I told you,”_ she yells back as Norman closes the door behind them.

He somehow manages to get Jake into the elevator and downstairs without a problem, having Rodrigo hail a cab for him, making sure that he tips the driver enough to make sure Jake gets home with no detours no matter what he says. With his friend taken care of, he goes back upstairs to deal with his drunken lover, finding her curled up on the sofa, wine glass in hand, smiling at his younger self on the tv screen.

_“You were soo…”_

_“If you tell me I was cute once more, I’m going to throw up,”_ he tells her, taking the wine glass from her protesting hand and flicking off the tv before scooping her up in his arms and carrying her to the bedroom. _“What did you tell Jake that he has to remember?”_

Depositing her on the bed he starts to undress her, pulling her shirt off over her head with some difficulty as she suddenly seems to have sprouted an extra pair of arms from somewhere and each one is flailing in a different direction.

 _“I fixed him,”_ comes her muffled voice from under her shirt and he finally yanks it free, her ruffled hair falling in her eyes as she looks up at him with a smug smile.

 _“Fixed him how?”_ he asks, smoothing her hair back into place, the reason for her impromptu invitation to Jake suddenly becoming crystal clear. _“Did you invite him over here to make him talk about Eris? Dammit, Lucia, why would you want to pick at that wound?”_

 _“Oh hush, he’s fine,”_ she tells him, fighting his hands as he tries to undo her jeans. _“Well, he seemed a lot better once I gave him the whiskey anyway. I think he just needed to get it all out there and I told him that I know it sucks, that it’s the most horrible thing I could ever imagine happening but it has and there’s nothing he can do about it so he can either wallow in his self-indulgent, macho bullshit or he can accept that fate dealt him a shitty hand and learn to live with it.”_

_“Baby, did you ever consider that that’s exactly what he has been doing and that he might not want to talk about it?”_

_“Pshh, what does he know? He can’t be all stoic and ‘I’m Detective Wolfe’ all the time,”_ she says, using a fake deep voice that has Norman smirking. _“He’ll explode. It’s not healthy to keep all that bottled up inside. But I fixed him, did I tell you that?”_

 _“Yes baby, you did,”_ he tells her, finally getting her uncooperative body out of her jeans and rolling her under the comforter, not wanting to tackle getting her separated from her underwear.

_“I told him, if you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with. A very wise man once said that, you know.”_

_“Or you’ve been listening to too much seventies music again,”_ Norman informs her with a laugh, getting out of his own clothes.

 _“Ohh, I love the seventies,”_ she squeals, her train of thought rolling rapidly away on another track. _“Jake was telling me how awesome they were but I told him I wouldn’t know because I was barely born. Oh my God but you were, you’re really old! Damn, you wolf men are all far too pretty to be so old.”_

 _“Thank you,”_ Norman says, turning off the light to climb in beside her. _“Well, I think so anyway. Good grief, Lucia, how much did you two drink?”_

 _“Not much,”_ she mutters as she wriggles herself back into his body, sighing as her head sinks deeper into the pillow and he spoons tightly around her so that she can’t roll onto her back during the night.

He gives a soft laugh at her notion of ‘not much’ and kisses the back of her neck gently until her breathing relaxes and he knows she’s fallen asleep then, closing his own eyes, he lets his body follow hers.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

Norman looks around the apartment one last time, making sure he didn’t miss anything, wanting everything to be perfect for when Lucia gets home from meeting with her client. It’s their last day together before Mingus comes home and as much as they’d tried to hide away from the outside world, Lucia had had just one appointment scheduled that she just couldn’t break. But now she was on her way home, texting him to say she’d just caught a cab and wouldn’t be long and he wanted the place to be ready for when she arrived. He’d closed every blind in the apartment, creating a comforting darkness that he’d accentuated with a smattering of strategically placed candles that were throwing off a warm, hazy light and filling the space with the scent of vanilla and honey. Although he had a meal prepared for them, he had a feeling they wouldn’t be eating it any time soon, if at all – his hunger was for something else entirely and the more he thought about her on her way home to him, the more his desire for her was growing. Giving a small growl of frustration, he scoops up EITD into his arms and, calling to Beegle to follow him, he deposits them both into Mingus’ room, closing the door behind them before shrugging out of his clothes and bending to call forth the wolf. Shaking himself to loosen up, he does a full body stretch and then sits facing the door, waiting for Lucia to arrive, his tongue hanging from the side of his powerful jaw in anticipation.

He gives an involuntary whine as he hears the sound of the elevator opening on their floor and her steps approaching as she searches for her keys and then finally unlocks the door, bolting it behind her before she turns and catches sight of him waiting for her. She drops her bag onto the hall table alongside her keys and slips out of her jacket to hang it up, then turns back to him, resting one hand on her hip as she stares down at him, her eyes glittering in the semi-darkness.

 _“I thought you were going to wait for me?”_ she tells him, a hint of petulance in her voice that he knows is just for show.

He lowers his head, laying his ears back against his skull and looks up at her with a mournful gaze for a moment before standing up to approach her slowly, bumping her stomach with the top of his head by way of apology. She gives a little laugh, running her fingers through his ruff and he tilts his head back to look up at her before taking the edge of her blouse gently between his teeth and giving it a gentle tug.

 _“Oh, you think you’re so adorable don’t you?”_ she asks him, pushing his head away and he gives her a wide, canine grin as he sits back on his haunches and looks her slowly up and down.

 _“Don’t think I’m not going to make you pay for starting without me,”_ she tells him, swiftly discarding her clothes, the scent of her skin caressing his nose as she stretches and drops to the floor, her Shift flowing smoothly across her body so that she’s in full wolf form by the time her front paws touch the polished wood floor.

She steps forward to him, licking at his muzzle and up over his face before dipping her head to sink her teeth into the soft flesh of his throat and giving him a warning growl, pulling the loose skin under his jaw just a little. He answers her with a rumble of his own and plants his feet more firmly as he jerks his head up out of her grasp, hearing her jaws click shut on thin air. With a tiny ‘yip’ she launches herself at him, using her full weight to barrel into his side and he lets her take him down, rolling with her until the two of them are engaged in a full-on wrestling match across the smooth floor of the apartment. There’s not a whole lot of room for two fully-grown werewolves to maneuver without causing some serious damage to their surroundings but somehow they’ve been making it work, blowing off steam by Shifting each evening and letting their wolf-sides play for a bit so that they don’t go too stir crazy before they have the chance to take another proper run.

They mock fight for a good thirty minutes, neither of them getting the upper hand until, at some unspoken signal, they both back away from each other and stand, sides heaving as they face each other down. With a chuffing sound, Norman turns his back on her, walking across the living room to flop down onto the rug in front of the sofa, laying his head down on his paws while he catches his breath and Lucia follows him to roll against his side as she joins him. She leans into him and he uses his tongue to caress her face, smoothing her fur and inhaling her scent until something else is stirring in him and he nudges her gently with his snout, whining quietly under his breath. She lifts her head to look at him, the jade of her eyes reflecting the flickering candlelight and he whines again, a little more urgently. He knows that she can read his mood, he can feel the same arousal growing in her too, their mental connection getting stronger with each day, and she pushes herself up into a sitting position, tilting her head back to expose her throat to him as she initiates her Shift back into her human form. He watches her body change, sees the rich chocolate of her coat ripple and blur as it pales back into her smooth skin, catches the subtle changes in her scent that comes with this form.

 _“I have your teeth marks all over me, I swear,”_ she admonishes him, twisting her torso to check herself, running her fingers lightly over her skin in a move that sets an ache low in his belly.

He shuffles forward to her on his belly until his head is resting in her lap and gives her his most apologetic look, feeling the heat growing in him as she slides her fingers into his fur, kneading and stroking at him while she bends to lift his huge head in her small hands and place soft kisses on his forehead. He nudges the sensitive, wet flesh of his nose against her abdomen, feeling himself getting high from the scent of her, wanting to taste her flesh just once before he Shifts, his mouth growing wetter at the thought. With her hands still resting on either side of his head, he parts his jaws and swipes the flat of his tongue across her stomach and down to her hip, eliciting a gasp from her and a guttural growl from his own chest as her taste explodes into his mouth. She grips his head tighter, not stopping him as he licks at her again, moving lower this time as he slowly initiates his Shift, letting his body determine the pace as he nuzzles his face into her skin, her body moving under his touch as she reclines back onto the floor, guiding him with her and parting her thighs to him.

The scent of her sex ignites him and he runs his tongue hotly over the skin of her thigh, feeling her body arch under him as he pushes in against her moist pussy, the need to taste her driving him wild. The first curl of his tongue against her wetness has him rock hard, his cock straining painfully as his body pulls him into his half-form, and he roughly pushes her thighs further apart with his clawed hands to delve deeper into her, the point of his snout pressed hard against her clit as his long tongue licks at her over and over. Lucia is writhing on the floor beneath him, her body bucking and a series of whimpers and groans spilling from her lips, her fingers now pulling hard on his hair as she begs him not to stop and he doesn’t, letting his fingers carefully push her lips open even more for him so that he can lick her even harder and deeper, not stopping until she screams that she’s coming and a whole new sensation floods his mouth. He teases her clit, getting off on the way it pulses under his touch, bringing his face back to its almost-human state to continue suckling at her flesh until she tugs on his head and he works his way up her body, stopping to take her breasts in his hands and taste her hardened nipples before finally reaching her mouth in a deep kiss, his fangs scraping over her lips.

 _“Well, that was different,”_ she tells him when he eventually parts his lips from hers and leans back to admire the flush on her skin from his handiwork.

 _“My pleasure,”_ he tells her, licking his lips with a feral grin.

 _“Oh no, I think your pleasure is coming now,”_ she purrs, pushing her arms up under his chest and flipping him onto his back.

 _Ow! Tail”,_ he yelps, feeling it bend under him as he lands, his wolfly lower-half not used to being in that position.

 _“Sorry!,”_ Lucia says quickly, reaching out a hand to pull him back up. _“Still getting used to your anatomy bending in all the wrong directions!”_

_“Let me just Shift back and you can make it up to me.”_

_“Wait!”_

She places a hand on his chest, stilling his body before he starts to Shift and then stands up, urging him to his feet where he towers over her, the beast in him reveling at her perceived fragility, wanting to own her body and devour it with his until she’s crying his name. He balances his weight between his back legs, using his sore tail as a counter-balance, standing in an open-legged stance while she moves in to trail her fingers down his chest closely followed by the heat of her mouth as she scrapes her teeth on each of his nipples. When he feels the softness of her palm stroking against the underside of his cock he grunts loudly and closes his eyes, letting her wrap her slender fingers around him, knowing that if he looks down for even an instant he’s going to come in her hand. She slides her hand up his length, deliberately slowly, tightening her fingers just below his head until she’s squeezing him almost painfully and then he shudders hard as she blows a cool breath over the top and wraps her lips over his tip.

 _“Fuck!”_ he grumbles, grabbing at her hair, his eyes going wide as she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth, her cheeks hollowing around him as she sucks him strongly.

She pulls slowly off of him, keeping her hand wrapped firmly around his base as she teases her tongue over his slit, kissing and licking at him like he’s a damn popsicle until he’s growling in frustration and he just wants to fuck her so hard he thinks his balls are going to burst. With some difficulty he forces her mouth from his cock, whimpering a little at the loss of her wet heat around him, and guides her back to the sofa, pushing her down and then taking her head in one of his large hands he rubs his leaking head over her lips, snarling as she flicks out her tongue to swipe over it. With a moan that vibrates over his whole body, she takes him back in, sliding him over her tongue and into her throat with no hesitation, her hands coming up to curl into the fur on his hips, tugging him forward in an unspoken invitation. He takes up her offer with a vengeance, holding her head steady as he starts thrusting into her mouth, slowly at first and then, as she lets her teeth casually scrape against his shaft, with more vigor. He pushes her back against the sofa, one leg coming up to rest on the seat beside her, his back claws digging deep into the spongey cushion, his other foot gouging into the rug as he leans over her and furiously fucks her mouth.

With a roar he pulls out of her lips, releasing her head, not ready to come yet and knowing he will if he keeps this up and she looks up at him, her mouth slick with spit, the wolf in her pushing out to show him her golden eyes and the points of her teeth as she curls her lip back. Wordlessly she rises to her feet, crowding his body as she lets more of the wolf out, increasing her size to almost match his but keeping her form mostly human, scraping her claws up his thighs to make them quiver and then turning away from him to bend over the sofa, presenting herself to him and looking back at him over her shoulder.

 _“Well?”_ she asks, raising an eyebrow.

He chuckles throatily, giving her ass a slap as he moves into position behind her, his body bending over hers, paws searching for position on the rug while he takes his cock in hand and strokes its length against the slickness of her waiting pussy. Lucia arches back into him, her hand coming up underneath to caress her fingers along his shaft as he rubs it against her clit over and over before she takes hold of him and guides him into her, slamming back against him hard enough to make his paws slip on the rug. He scrabbles for purchase, throwing an arm underneath her to grab at her throat while he pounds into her, his free hand alternatively squeezing at her breast and tweaking her nipple or sliding over the skin of her stomach. She clenches around him, her tight pussy squeezing and relaxing in a way that makes him crazy, her hands braced hard into the back of the sofa to hold her position against his onslaught, her shins pressed against the seat cushions. His fingers tighten on her throat feeling her pulse thumping in her veins and she whines loudly as he nips at her sweat-streaked shoulder with his teeth, desperate for just a taste of her blood, his tongue rasping over the small wound as soon as he’s made it and, once it hits his tongue, he comes with a howl which he stifles against her flesh.

His body quakes as he fills her, jerking into her over and over until he’s empty, and then he pulls out, hearing her whimper his name as he leaves a sticky trail down the inside of her thigh. With the muscles in his legs quivering like bow-strings, he reverts back to his human form, pulling her up from her bent over position and turning her to lay her on the sofa, watching her body Shift back to match his as he kneels between her legs, pushing them up to her chest as he slips his fingers inside her. She makes a small keening sound in her throat as he curls his digits inside her, hunting for the spot to make her come. He dips his head, brushing his lips lightly over the swollen mass of her clit, smelling and tasting the mingling of both of them as he rubs the tip of his tongue down to meet his fingers inside her and then back up to suck on her clit. She pulls on his hair, forcing his head up and he moves up to kiss her, his fingers keeping up their rhythm inside her as she sucks eagerly at his tongue, moaning softly into his mouth and squeezing her pussy around him.

 _“Come on, baby,”_ he murmurs gruffly against the skin of her throat, working his lips down from her jaw and sucking hard on her pulse point. _“Come for me, my dirty whore, you know I love to watch you explode.”_

He pushes his fingers a little deeper, stroking her deep, flicking his thumb across her clit while her moans increase and he knows she’s close, can read her body now as well as his own and he feels his cock twitching at the thought that they have the whole night ahead of them and all he wants to do is watch her come as many times as she can. Her hand comes down to dig her nails painfully into his forearm as he sees her eyes roll and she comes hard and fast, her pussy spasming around his fingers and she surprises him with giving a howl of her own which he cuts off with a kiss, teasing her pussy gently with a few slow strokes to finish her off. He feels her relax under him and he changes position to let her get more comfortable, lowering her legs back down as he hooks a knee over her thigh, never breaking their kiss while he caresses the skin of her abdomen with his fingers occasionally brushing the underside of her breast with his thumb. He kisses her for what seems an eternity, wondering if he can get away with doing nothing but this for the rest of his life, the warmth of her skin pressed against his, the scent and taste of her owning his senses, her general presence just filling him with a sense of satisfied peace that he’s never felt before.

 _“You complete me,”_ he tells her, finally parting his lips from hers and resting his head on her shoulder, tracing patterns with his fingertip across her chest.

 _“And I love you, you big dork,”_ she tells him with a light laugh, kissing the top of his head and tickling the skin of his back with a light touch.

They lay together, bodies entwined, just enjoying each other’s nearness, sharing little teases that hint of more lovemaking to come and Norman sends up a silent prayer to whoever put her on his path that night when he needed her most and delivered this amazing woman to him.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**_ EPILOGUE _ **

Lucia is nervous, wiping her damp palms on her jeans for the umpteenth time as she stares out of the windshield at their destination looming in front of them.

 _“Are you sure I look okay?”_ she asks, swiveling her head in Norman’s direction.

 _“If you ask me that one more time, I’m turning the car around and taking you home,”_ he tells her sternly. _“You look beautiful, baby.”_

She takes a deep breath as he pulls into one of the designated parking spots and kills the engine, slowly exhaling as she wipes her palms on her thighs one more time. She can’t believe the day has finally come, the last couple of weeks since their trip to Virginia have flown by and now here they are, at the airport and she’s about to make another huge change in her life that scares her way more than any psychotic werewolf ever could.

 _“Breathe,”_ says Norman, undoing his seatbelt and leaning over to give her a whiskery kiss on her cheek. _“You’ve got this, don’t even sweat it, babe. Who’s my badass werebitch, huh?”_

He tickles at her ribs and she slaps at his hands, giggling in spite of her irritation at the new nickname he’s taken to calling her.

 _“Where’s the damn sign?”_ she asks, unbuckling her belt as he reaches into the backseat, past a panting Beegle and passes her a hand-painted sign.

She takes it and climbs out of the car before she can change her mind, joining the throngs of people entering and leaving the terminal, trying not to be jostled too much as she searches for the right gate, using one of Sean’s breathing techniques to calm the beast as it grumbles within her at being among this many different scents and people. The information board tells her that the plane has landed already and is disembarking now and she hustles to the gate, noticing for the first time how people seem to step out of her way as she moves through the crowd, some almost flinching even if she doesn’t touch them as if they can sense there’s something different about her. She smiles to herself, finding that she likes it, having such a unique secret and then she curses Norman under her breath for making them late, a blush creeping over her cheeks as she recalls the reason why, the image of their slick skin sliding lazily against each other bursting uninvited into her mind and she curses him harder knowing that the image came from him.

She arrives at the barrier just as the first passengers start to emerge, pushing carts laden with baggage and calling exuberant greetings to their loved ones waiting for them in the crowd around her. With her heart thudding nervously in her chest, she holds up the sign with Norman’s handwriting on it, eyes scanning the crowds until she spots him. Even if she’d never seen one of the hundreds of pictures of him filling their apartment, she knows without any hesitation that she’d recognize him as Norman’s son anywhere. Even though he looks nothing like his father, having inherited his mother’s delicate features, every line of his body, every move and gesture he makes as he pushes the cart along with the crowd is a mirror-image of Norman’s. Holding the sign a little higher, Lucia calls his name, seeing first the wide smile that shines on his face when he reads the words and then the crashing disappointment that he tries to mask as he looks behind her and realizes she’s alone.

 _“Hi, I’m Lucia,”_ she says, smiling at him and holding out her hand towards him as he stops the cart in front of her.

 _“I know,”_ he replies, taking her hand shyly but shaking it with a firm grip. _“My Dad sent me some pictures of the two of you together.”_

 _“Oh God, well I don’t even want to think about which ones he sent you,”_ she laughs, _“but it’s nice to finally meet you. Ready to go?”_

 _“Yep,”_ he replies, steering the cart towards the exit.

_“Your Dad’s sorry he couldn’t come himself, he really wanted to be here to meet you, but he had a last minute appointment in the city he couldn’t get out of, you know how that is.”_

_“Uh-huh,”_ he agrees and Lucia is pleased to hear there’s no hint of resentment in his tone for his father’s busy lifestyle.

As they wait to cross the street to the parking lots, Lucia steals sideways glances at his profile, his stance so much like his father’s that it pulls a grin from her lips and that’s when she realizes that Eris was right, she already loves him like her own because he’s a part of Norman and she knows that she’d giver her life to protect him if anybody ever tried to harm him. She chats with him about his time in Europe as they make their way to the car and she can feel him sizing her up, scrutinizing every aspect of the woman who’s come to be such a big part of his father’s life.

 _“Why don’t you go get in the front,”_ she tells him as they approach the back of the car, _“while I put your bags in the back.”_

 _“They’re kinda heavy,”_ he tells her, looking at her a little dubiously.

 _“I’m stronger than I look,”_ she replies, nudging him around towards the passenger side. _“Go on, you must be tired after your flight. I’ve got this.”_

He shrugs but reaches for the passenger door anyway, Lucia peeking around the back of the high vehicle, only to have it fly open and Norman launch himself out, scooping up his son in an enormous bear hug, swinging him off his feet until they’re both yelling and hugging, Norman planting huge wet kisses on Mingus’ squirming face.

He wraps the kid in a headlock, turning to Lucia and she damn near wants to burst into tears just witnessing the love between them, feeling it rolling off of Norman in waves.

 _“You said he couldn’t come”_ Mingus says accusingly from under Norman’s arm.

 _“Hey, don’t look at me, it was all your Dad’s idea,”_ Lucia tells him, throwing her hands up in defense.

There’s a sudden bark from inside the car Beegle presses his nose up against the window, tail wagging madly in his eagerness to meet this new member of his pack.

 _“You got a dog?”_ Mingus cries, wriggling out from under Norman’s arm and staring in the window.

_“Well, he’s Lucia’s dog.”_

_“Ours,”_ she corrects him with a smile. _“His name is Beegle and I’m thinking you better get in there and say ‘Hi’ before he licks his way through the glass.”_

Mingus looks back at Norman, who nods his approval, and then opens the back door, climbing in next to a whining, quivering Beegle who manages to wait a whole two seconds before covering the boy’s face with joyful licks, making Mingus laugh out loud. Norman and Lucia quickly throw his suitcases into the back and then climb in the front, Lucia taking the driver’s seat so that Norman can talk to Mingus properly on the way home.

 _“Put your seatbelt on,”_ Norman tells him, leaning around the back of his seat.

_“But Dad…”_

_“No ‘buts’. You went to Italy, right? Saw how they drive? Well where do you think Lucia’s from?”_

Lucia makes eye contact with Mingus in the rearview mirror and throws him a wink as comprehension dawns on his face and he reaches for his belt.

 _“Besides, she’s a terrible driver anyway,”_ Norman adds in a false whisper.

 _“Hey!”_ Lucia responds, backhanding his upper arm with a slap.

_“What? You hit me with your car! How much worse can it get?”_

_“Well, if you hadn’t been out there in the middle of the road at the time I could have avoided you.”_

_“I was taking a run.”_

_“It was 3:00am on a pitch black highway with you dressed all in black. You’re lucky you have a thick skull.”_

Norman sticks his tongue out at her and she catches Mingus watching their interaction carefully from the backseat.

_“Dad says you’re an artist, that you paint monsters and that you did a painting of him but he wouldn’t send me a picture. Said I had to see it in person.”_

_“Monsters, huh?”_ Lucia says, throwing a wry glance at Norman. _“Well maybe we need to sit down and have a discussion about that term but, yes, I painted your Dad and now I’m thinking I’m going to have to paint you too. I didn’t realize you were going to be so damn handsome.”_

 _“Takes after his old man,”_ Norman says, puffing out his chest a little as Mingus blushes in the back seat.

 _“Oh, you wish,”_ snorts Lucia, earning herself a sharp poke in the shoulder as she pulls the car carefully out of the parking spot and joins the line of traffic all fighting for position to get out. _“Hey, don’t mess with the driver or you’ll be walking home.”_

As they finally get free of the airport, Lucia looks from the boy in the backseat, sitting with one arm wrapped around Beegle’s neck, the dog practically climbing onto his lap, over to Norman who reaches out a hand to squeeze her thigh reassuringly and she smiles contentedly as she pushes the car as fast as she dares, taking her family home.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**


End file.
